


Entering the Wizarding World

by NerineLunaCyran



Series: Slytherin!Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Tags and Characters added as we go, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Hogwarts First Year, Manipulative Dumbledore, POV Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Hermione, Slytherin Harry, Which is not the same as evil Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerineLunaCyran/pseuds/NerineLunaCyran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus isn't too happy when he finds out where Albus brought Harry after Lily's death and decides to take matters into his own hands.<br/>What follows is a Harry who hasn't been told from the start that Slytherins are evil, and steps into Hogwarts with an open mind, and an open heart. </p><p>(Equivalent to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Away from the Dursleys

Harry was lying on his bed in the cupboard under the stairs, in Privet Drive number 4. At least, if you could call it a bed. It was more of a mattress lying on the ground. But it was the closest he had ever come to a bed, so he called it his bed. The Dursleys’ had banished him to his cupboard for the evening once more, since they blamed him for - actually, he didn’t know what they blamed him for this time, he only knew they blamed him for something, as usually. So now he lay on his bed, pulling at some threads on the bare blanket that lay on top of it.

The doorbell rang, and Harry wondered who would be coming to visit the Dursley’s at this time of day. It was already way past dinner, way too late for a normal visit, and the Dursley’s weren’t planning on having visitors as far as he knew. He could already imagine his uncle’s face, scrunched up and xx about people ringing doorbells at this time of day.

He heard footsteps in front of his cupboard, and by the light footsteps he knew it was his aunt, Petunia. His uncle, Vernon, and his cousin, Dudley, would both have made a lot more sound than his aunt did. He heard the door being opened and he listened intently, trying to figure out who was standing on the other side. It wasn’t that he particularly cared, but there was not much else to do in the small space of his cupboard.

For a few moments, he heard nothing, and he wondered what was going on for his aunt not to greet the person with her usual polite greeting. But then his aunt finally said something, although it was barely more than a whisper.

“It can’t be you,” she whispered, and Harry thought he might even hear a hint of fear.

“Always so polite, aren’t we, Tuny,” a deep, male voice spoke.

Harry wondered who would ever call his aunt Tuny, and couldn’t imagine she would appreciate the nickname. Then again, she hadn’t sounded particularly happy to see him in the first place. He grinned at the mental image of what his aunt’s face would look like at the moment.

“What.. What are you doing here? We don’t want anything to do with you freaks,” Petunia said.

“I’m here for Lily’s son,” the man spoke again.

At this, Harry immediately sat upright. The man was here for him? What would he want from him? He spoke of Lily, did he know his mother? What would he want from him now, years after his mother’s dead?

“They brought him here,” his aunt replied. “With specific instructions that he needed to stay here. I don’t know what is going on, but I do know that Dumbledore was very specific with that.”

“The circumstances have changed. Now where is he?”

“Petunia, darling, who is at the door?” uncle Vernon called from the living room.

“Nobody, Vernon,” Petunia called back. “Just someone asking for directions.”

A moment later, his aunt spoke again, this time in a much softer voice. “Just leave me alone, leave my family alone.”

“Don’t point that at me!” his aunt suddenly called out a few seconds later.

“Where is the boy?” the man asked again, his voice threatening. “I’m not going to ask again. You know very well what I can do, so stop this foolishness and show me where he is.”

Harry heard his uncle walk over towards the front door now, his heavy footsteps clearly different from those of his aunt.

“What are you doing at our house?” he asked, angry. “We don’t want anything to do with you freaks. Dropping him off here was bad enough, no need to have you show up at our doorstep at ridiculous hours as well! Now leave, before one of the neighbours sees you.”

Harry heard a loud banging noise, a bit like the sound of a gun being shot, and immediately got as far too the back of his cupboard as he could manage. Loud noises were never a good sign in the Dursley home.

“Harry!” his aunt called out. “Come here, right now!”

Harry didn’t move from his spot at the back of his cupboard. The man could be here for him, and he could know his mother, but if he had a gun, there was no way he was going to him voluntarily.

“Now!” his aunt called again. “If I’m going to have to drag you out of there you are stuck in there for the rest of the holidays!”

Harry bit his lip, thinking about what was his better option. He eventually decided that being confined to his cupboard for the rest of the holidays, probably with little to no food, was a worse perspective than seeing what was going on. If the man seemed to be dangerous, he could always go back into his cupboard again. And really, it wasn’t as if his cupboard would be any real sort of protection if the man wanted to hurt him.

He took a deep breath, stood up from his bed and stepped into the hallway.

The man in the doorway wore black clothing, and it seemed to Harry like they were some kind of dress. What Harry immediately noticed was his long black hair, which seemed rather stringy, and crooked nose. He was also, funnily enough, pointing what seemed like a wooden stick at his aunt. Uncle Vernon was lying on the ground, his aunt kneeling besides him, looking at the man in the doorway in what seemed to Harry like fear. Not trusting the man, especially with his uncle lying on the ground, Harry kept his distance.

“You put him in a cupboard?” the man asked, his voice low and smooth, but obviously dangerous.

“We raise him, like you people asked of us!” his aunt replied. “We never wanted him! Be glad we are giving him a home!”

“I have always known you were disgusting, Petunia, but even I would have never imagined you putting a child in a cupboard. He is your nephew, Lily’s son. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Is he dead?” Harry asked in a small voice, gesturing at uncle Vernon.

The man now looked at Harry, really looked at him, for the first time. He was silent for a few moments, looking Harry over, before answering.

“He is just unconscious.”

The man turned his attention back towards his aunt.

“He is not staying with you any longer,” the man said. “He is obviously malnourished, and judging from that cupboard, you are abusing him as well. I will not let Lily’s son be raised by you.”

“What happened to us being his only option?” his aunt asked. “ You could have taking him years ago. Like I said, we never wanted him. I have a normal family of my own.”

Harry stared at his aunt and the strange man, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Obviously the man didn’t like the way the Dursley’s had treated him. But if he was here for him, then why now? Why not all those years ago, when he was first brought here, like his aunt suggested. And why was he still pointing that stick at his aunt?

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but what is going on?” Harry asked, hoping the man wouldn’t be too upset that he had asked a question. After all, the first rule in the Dursley home was ‘do not ask questions’.

“Pack your stuff,” the man said to him. “You’re leaving.”

Harry wanted to ask for how long he was leaving, but he didn’t dare ask another question. He was probably pushing his luck already. He quickly got back into his cupboard, grabbed the threadbare bag from the corner and quickly threw the few clothing articles he had lying around in there before walking back out.

“Is that everything you have?” the man asked.

Harry quickly nodded.

The man turned his attention back to his aunt. “You disgust me, Petunia. I would have thought you at least to be above this kind of treatment against your own blood. Then again, I should have known, the way you treated Lily.”

“If you are going to take him, then just leave now,” his aunt answered. “I really don’t care. Just get away from me and my family, before the neighbours see you and start asking questions.

“I should curse you and your family for the way you treated Lily’s son,” the man said. “I sincerely hope to never see you again, Petunia.”

His aunt then turned towards Harry. “Well, what are you waiting for? You’re leaving. Now.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, before figuring he might as well go. The man probably couldn’t be any worse than the Dursley’s were.

He slowly walked over towards the man, who grabbed hold of his arm. Harry flinched, remembering what usually happened after someone grabbed his arm. The next thing he knew he felt like he was being pushed through some kind of tunnel that was too small for his body.

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, the pressure was gone again, and Harry realised that somehow, he was no longer at the Dursley’s. He was now standing in what looked like a cross between a living room and a library, the colour of the wallpaper only noticeable at the edges of the wall, the rest of it being hidden behind rows upon rows of books lining all four walls.

“There is no need to panic,” the man said.

Harry felt there was every reason to panic, having just been moved from the Durley’s home to a place he didn’t know in what had seemed like only a moment. Had the man drugged him? He backed away a bit further, until he felt his back hit one of the shelves on the wall.

The man’s eyes widened, pulled out the stick again, and suddenly Harry felt an invisible voice pull him back to the man, while he heard something fall to the ground behind him.

“Do not touch the books,” the man said, his eyes boring into Harry’s. “They are dangerous.”

Harry nodded meekly, not wanting to upset the man any further, and having learnt from dealing with his uncle that the best course of action was then usually agreeing with whatever was being said. Until he figured out what was going on, it was probably best to not make the man angry.

“There is a room upstairs, first door on the right,” the man said. “Bring up your stuff and go change into some better clothes.”

Harry looked down at what he was wearing, knowing it to be some of the better items he owned. He wondered if he should tell the man, but decided against it.

Suddenly, one of the bookcases behind Harry swung open, revealing it to actually be a door, a staircase hidden behind it.

“Go, we will talk later,” the man said, waving towards the staircase with one hand, the other massaging his temples.

Harry quickly turned around, grabbed the bag he had dropped earlier, and made his way upstairs.

The layout of the house turned out not to be too different from what he was used to at the Dursley’s. He opened the first door on his right, like the man had told him, and found a sparsely decorated, but nice bedroom. He wondered briefly if the man has actually meant for him to stay here, in a bedroom of his own, before deciding that for now it didn’t matter.

He dropped the contents of his bag on the bed and searched the small pile of clothes for something that at least came close to fitting and normal. He eventually found a pair of trousers that didn’t have any holes in it and a dark-grey shirt that he knew would fit well enough once he rolled up the sleeves a few times. He threw the other clothes back into the bag, which he then carefully placed in the corner of the room, before looking for the bathroom.

He looked forward to spending some time to clean himself up without anyone standing outside the door keeping track of the time. The Dursleys only allowed him exactly five minutes each morning in theirs, and he had decided early on that going to the toilet and brushing his teeth were the most important. He even took the time to try and get his hair into something resembling decent - even though he knew it was pretty much useless.

Standing in the bathroom, freshly cleaned up, his hair somewhat less of a mess than before, and in semi-clean clothes, Harry took some time to wonder what was going on. A stranger, who seemed to have known his mother, had treatened his aunt and uncle, before seemingly transporting himself and Harry from the Dursley’s to the man’s own house in what had seemed to be less than a heartbeat. There was definitely something strange going on, and although the man at the moment at least seemed a bit nicer than Uncle Vernon, Harry still didn’t exactly trust him. He would have to be careful, at least until he found out who the man was, and why he had brought him here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been finished in first draft form during NaNo'13, which means that it you don't have to worry about it being abandoned somewhere halfway through. I do need to do some (heavy) editing though, so expect to see an update about weekly.  
> The big storyline(s) for all seven years are already pretty much worked out as well, so I'm pretty sure I will be doing all seven years. It might take some time, but it will be done.
> 
> There is a prologue-like thingy, from Severus' POV, set just before this story. It can be found here: None Too Happy
> 
> Oh, and Character Tags and Additional Tags will be added along the way, because I don't want to spoil too much, and I will probably add in characters later that I didn't know I would.


	2. At Spinner's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not yet been a week, but weekend updates are easier for me. Also, I'm just really happy about the amount of readers - and subscribers, 8 of you already! - I managed to get in just four days.  
> Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, ideally one who would be willing to work with me long term, since I do have another six stories planned after this.

Harry was just walking back to the living room (or at least what he assumed was the living room), when there was a knock on the door. He was trying to figure out if he should go into the room to see who was there, or if it was better to stay where he was, hidden from sight. He figured that since the Dursleys always told him he should not be seen, the safest option was too stay where he was. If the man wanted him to be there, he would probably come and get him. But he also didn’t want to walk into one of the other rooms, since he didn’t know if he had permission to do that, so he decided to just sit own in the hallway where he was and try and make himself comfortable.

“Albus,” the man said, “to what do I owe this visit?”

“Severus, my boy, what did you do?” another man asked. Judging by his voice, he was very old.

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” the man, apparently called Severus, replied.

“Do not lie to me, Severus. What have you done with the boy?”

“I merely corrected a mistake you made several years ago,” Severus answered. He didn’t raise his voice, but Harry immediately heard the difference in his tone. It was, colder, somehow. Scarier. “Really Albus, Petunia? You know how she thought about Lily, her own sister. Why did you ever decide to put Lily’s son with her and her family?”

“You just answered your own question, Severus,” the old man answered, this time sounding happy, strangely enough. “Blood is the strongest protection there is. They were the safest place for him to be.”

“They abused him, Albus. Obviously it isn’t the safest place for him to be.”

“And where would you have had him go then, Severus?” the old man asked. “The boy needed a safe place to grow up, where he would be threated normally. Where they would see him as a person, instead of as the Boy-Who-Lived. Peter is dead, Sirius is in Azakaban and we both know Remus isn’t able to care for the boy on his own what with his condition.”

“I am sure you could have figured something out. Anywhere but with her. I do not care where you put the boy, as long as he is no longer abused by that sad excuse for a human being.”

Harry wondered why the man cared so much about where he was staying. Not that he was complaining about not being with his aunt and uncle at the moment, of course. It was just that nobody had ever seemed to care about him before, had ever taken an interest in his home situation.

“The school year is almost starting, Severus. There is too much too be done for me to arrange alternative arrangements for Mr Potter now. Surely, this one extra month isn’t going to matter too much in the grand scheme of things?”

“So you being busy means it is worth it to let an eleven year old boy be abused for another month?”

“I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think it is, Severus. Are you sure you are not just projecting your own childhood on the boy?”

“I am not projecting anything, Albus, so leave my past out of this. They had him living in a cupboard. I am not just assuming he was abused, I know he was. As I am sure you knew. What other reason could you have had for refusing to tell me where he was all those times I asked.”

“I did not see any reason for you to need to know the information, Severus. There was no other motive behind that.” There was a pause, before the old man continued.

“As for Mr Potter, I really do not see what I can do in this last month before school starts. There is just too much that still has to be done to prepare for the students arriving on the fist of September.”

“I am not going to bring him back to them, Albus. I am not letting Lily’s son be abused a day longer. He can stay here if there truly is no other options.”

“Here?” the old man asked. “Severus, you have things to finish before the school year starts just as well as I do. I honestly don’t think leaving the boy with you is the best idea.”

“I will make it work. I am not letting him go back there. I do not care what it takes. I will travel from here to the school and back, he can keep himself occupied with books during the day. I am sure there will be no problems.”

“Severus, think about it. What would happen if people knew you had Harry Potter living with you? It could prove to be a dangerous and tricky situation quite quickly. We can’t have that.”

“He will not go back,” Severus replied, more forceful this time. “People do not have to know. As you said, it is only a month until the school year starts, and then you will have enough time to work on alternate arrangements.”

Harry heard someone sigh, a long, weary sigh. He assumed it was the old man. “Very well then. He can stay with you until he comes to Hogwarts. I will see what I can do after that.”

Footsteps could be heard, and a door opened and closed shortly after. Figuring the old man had left, Harry wondered what he should do now. Should he walk into the room, or wait some more?

 

* * * 

 

“I know you are there,” Severus suddenly called out, surprising Harry. “Come in here.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, looking at the ground while slowly walking into the room.

“I knew you were there. If I did not want you there, I would have said so. There is no reason to be sorry.”

Harry nodded, but did not look up.

“Stop looking at the ground.”

Harry slowly met the man’s eyes, and to his surprise he indeed didn’t seem mad.

“Mr Potter- No, that is not going to work. Harry. As you already heard, you are going to be staying here with me until the schoolyear starts on the first of September, at which you are going to be living at Hogwarts. Until then, you can have the guest bedroom I have pointed you to earlier.”

Harry had a lot of questions, but still wasn’t sure if he should asks questions or not. He bit his lip, trying to figure out what the man would do if he did ask them.

“What is Hogwarts?” Harry asked, figuring the thing he most wanted to know is where the man thought he would be staying from September onwards.

“You do not know?” Severus, asked. “Did they not tell you anything?”

Harry shrugged. “They didn’t explain much, and they didn’t want me to ask questions either.”

“Then the first thing you should know is that you are allowed to ask as many questions as you want here,” Severus said. “And Hogwarts is the school where you will learn about magic.”

“Magic?” Harry wondered aloud. “As in, real magic?”

“With ‘not much’ I guess you meant ‘not anything’, am I right?” Severus asked, pinching his nose. “The famous Boy-Who-Lived not even knowing that he is a wizard.”

Harry just stared at the man, not really knowing what he should say or do, or what to ask next. The man didn’t make any sense to him, but he was right that the Dursleys never really explained anything to him.

“Sit down, Harry,” he said, gesturing at the armchair across from him. He pulled out the wooden stick again, and with some waving around, a letter came flying towards them.

Harry stared first at the stick, which he now supposed was a wand, then at the letter that was now hovering in front of him. The name on the envelope was ‘Harry Potter’, so he assumed it was for him. He looked up at the man, checking to see if his assumption was right, and then gingerly plucked the envelope from the air before sitting down.

Harry opened the envelope, and found multiple sheets of what seemed like some thick kind of paper, or maybe even parchment, inside.

He gently took out the one that was on top, which also seemed to be the biggest one. The letter was written in a flourishing handwriting, with what seemed to be some kind of ink that was somewhere between blue and black. On top of the page was an elaborate logo, with a giant H in the middle, accompanied by four animals, a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake. Above it was a ribbon with the text ‘Hogwarts’, while beneath it was a ribbon with writing in a language he didn’t recognise. It said: ‘Draco Dormiens Numquam Titillandus’. He couldn’t quite believe something that looked as fancy as this was really addressed to him, but the name on top of the paper really did say ‘Harry Potter’. He looked up at the man one last time before looking back at the paper in his hands and reading the letter.

 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)

 

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

 

Harry read the letter two times before looking up again. He couldn’t believe it. A wizard? He? It did explain why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept calling him freak all these years. He had supposed it was just because they didn’t like him, but if they had known he was a wizard, with their love for all things ‘normal, thank you very much’ it made sense they would think him a freak.

“Is this real?” Harry asked, just to be certain. He had heard Severus and the old man talking, had heard them discuss Hogwarts and his stay, but he still couldn’t quite believe it wasn’t all some sort of elaborate prank.

“There is no way Lily’s son would not be a wizard, Harry,” Severus replied. “There is no doubt about it. Your name has been on the list for Hogwarts since the day you were born.”

“And my aunt knew about my mom? Knew about me?” he asked.

Severus thought for a moment, before answering. “Your aunt knew about your mother being a witch. They had been close when they were younger. Eventually, she became jealous, and they stopped talking. Lily tried to mend the bond, but Petunia did not want to have anything to do with her anymore.”

“Then why was I brought to her after the car crash?” Harry asked. It just didn’t make sense. If his aunt and mother hadn’t been talking, then why would he be brought to her.

“Which car crash?” Severus asked.

“The one that killed my parents,” Harry replied. “They told me my parents had crashed their car when my father was drunk, which was how I ended up with them as my guardians.”

Severus looked away for a moment, his face hardening. He took several breaths before looking back at Harry, which made Harry all the more nervous.

“Your parents did not die in a car crash,” he said. “I do not know what exactly Petunia has been telling you about your parents, but I think it is safe to say it is best to categorise everything she and her husband have ever told you about your parents to be a lie.”

“Then what happened?” Harry asked. “How did they die?”

“They were killed by the Dark Lord,” Severus answered, a flicker of hurt crossing over his face. “He believed them to be a threat to him, because of their involvement with a resistance group.”

“You called me The-Boy-Who-Lived earlier. Is that because he didn’t kill me?” Harry asked.

“Not exactly. He tried to, but you survived, and he disappeared. Nobody has ever survived a Killing Curse before, it is unblockable, which is why it was so incredible that a little boy, barely more than a year old, was the only one to survive. That is why you are called ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’.

Harry looked at his knees for a few moments. It was all so strange to think about. He had thought his aunt might not have told him the complete truth when she talked about his parents, but he had never believed it to be something like this. He then thought about the dreams he sometimes had, the ones that were somewhere between a dream and a nightmare.

“Spells, can they have a colour? Like some sort of light?” he asked.

Severus looked at him for a moment, before answering. “Most curses, hexes and blocks have coloured lights associated with them, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I sometimes have this dream. I always believed it might have been a distant memory about the moment the car crashed, but I never quite figured out why there would be some much light. Green light.”

Severus stared at him, as if looking for answers in his eyes. “The Killing Curse is green. It could be that you are indeed remembering some sort of memory of the moment he tried to kill you, or killed your mother. Lily was found right next to your crib.”

Severus looked away once more, almost as if he was trying to compose himself, although his expression was still unreadable to Harry, no emotion showing. It was strange, to be interacting with someone who he couldn’t see if he was mad or angry. At the Dursley’s, it was always very obvious when they were mad at him, or if Dudley was planning something again. This man, with his carefully constructed masks, made him a little bit nervous.

“Is there anything else you remember? Anything else that might have been connected to that day?”

Harry shrugged. “I was barely more than a year old. It’s not like I can really have any real memories of that far back. It’s just the green light, and a scream, that sometimes appears in my dreams.”

Something then struck Harry. “Could it be, have I ever travelled by motorbike? Like, a flying motorbike? When I was younger, I sometimes had this dream about a giant with a flying motorbike.”

Severus nodded. “It could. There is a chance Dumbledore would have had Hagrid pick you up. Although I am not sure where he would have gotten a flying motorbike from, it is certainly possible.”

“So, this is all real then?” Harry asked. “This letter, me being a wizard, Hogwarts? There really is such a thing as magic, witches and wizards, spells?”

“Have you not seen enough today to believe it is true?” Severus asked, raising one eyebrow. “We have travelled from the Dursley’s home to mine almost instantaneously. Surely you do not have any other explanation for it?”

“I guess,” Harry replied. “It’s just a bit strange to believe that those stories, those books are real.”

“I never said the books were real,” Severus said. “There is a lot in books that is not true. But the various theories Muggles have about magic is based on truths. Some have stayed pretty close to the truth, others have become changed over the years. But hoping to understand magic through stories is not going to work. If you do want to learn before going to Hogwarts, I have some books that I could lend you. Do not try to touch any of the books that I do not give you, there are some that are quite dangerous.”

“So no flying around on brooms?” Harry asked jokingly.

“That actually is true,” Severus said, his lips quirking in something that might have been called a smile. “Although it is not only witches that fly. Most of the professional Quidditch players are actually male.”

Harry stared at him. He had been joking about the flying thing, suspecting it had been one of those stories that had strayed very far away from the truth.

“What’s Quidditch?” he asked, not knowing what else to reply than that.

“The main Wizarding sport. I do not have any books on that particular subject, so you will have to wait until Hogwarts to learn more.”

Harry didn’t really know how to continue the conversation after that, so he merely nodded.

“Unfortunately, I still have work to do before the schoolyear starts. I will be at Hogwarts for the rest of the day. I will be back for with dinner.”

He walked over towards the far end of the room, and pulled a few books from the shelves.

“The books that you are most likely to understand are only on the subject of potions, seeing as they are the only ones I have elementary textbooks of, but I do hope you will find them interesting.”

He handed the books over to Harry, and walked over to the fireplace. He threw a handful of some kind of powder into the flames, turning them bright green, and turned back to Harry.

“Try not to touch any of the books, and don’t break anything.”

He then turned around again and stepped into the flames. He said “Hogwarts” and disappeared, leaving Harry to wonder about the fact that he was a wizard.


	3. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than the previous two - three times as long, actually - but I didn't want to cut anything out, hope you don't mind. 
> 
> A friend of mine, Raafling, has agreed to do art for this fic, please drop by her tumblr (raafling.tumblr.com) if you want to comment on her artwork. :)
> 
> Oh, and I'm still looking for a beta reader, if anyone's interested.

Harry was reading one of the Potion texts that Severus had given to him earlier that week. He hadn’t really expected the subject to appeal to him very much, because when thinking about magic obviously wands and spells came to mind, not standing over a cauldron. After looking over some of the books Severus had loaned him though, he had decided Potions might not be so bad. And while he didn’t think he was going to be very good at spells - after all, he had no practice with that at all - he thought he might be able to do well in Potions. From what he had read so far, the subject didn’t seem to be too different from cooking - except for the magical ingredients and effects of course - and that was something that he had plenty of experience with because of the Dursleys.

There was a knock at his door, and a moment later Severus stepped into his room. “We’re going to get your school supplies today. Make sure you are ready in half an hour.”

Harry quickly put the book back on the little bookshelf above the desk and walked over towards the bathroom across the hall. He tugged on his hair for almost 20 minutes, but it still didn’t want to stay put any more than it had before he had started the war with his hair. He decided it wasn’t worth the time, and walked out of the bathroom again.

He walked downstairs, when it suddenly hit him that he had no money to buy his school supplies.

“Are you ready to go?” Severus asked when he walked into the living room.

Harry nodded. “There’s just.. I mean, I don’t have any money.”

“Of course you have money, the Potters have always been one of the more well-off families in Magical Britain. We will pick some up when we arrive in Diagon Alley.”

Harry once again got mad at his aunt and uncle. All these years they had given him the excuse that he had to earn the right for his food and clothes, while apparently he had plenty money.

“Come here, Harry,” Severus said, and Harry walked over towards him.

Severus got out his wand and tapped it lightly to Harry’s forehead. He felt a strange sensation, like an egg was being cracked over his head. He noticed his hair colour changing from the usual brown to sandy blond and a moment later it also became slightly shorter. He inwardly sighed, realising all the time he had spent in the bathroom trying to get his hair to work along with him hadn’t mattered, since it was being magically changed anyway. He should have thought of that, since he knew nobody could knew he was staying with this man that had suddenly appeared onto the Dursley’s doorstep out of nowhere. He had heard him and the old man, Albus, discuss it himself. He still wasn’t really sure why that was, and he made a mental note to ask the man at a later time.

“You are disguised because it will make shopping easier. If, for any reason, someone finds out who you are, I am taking you to do your school shopping because I am a Hogwarts teacher. Nobody is allowed to know you are staying with me. Do try not to talk to anyone, and just do your shopping. We will try to get in and out of Diagon Alley as quickly as we can.”

Harry didn’t really understand why his appearance would make shopping difficult, but nodded anyway. “I understand. Pick up the money, the school supplies, and get out again. There won’t be any problems.”

“Good,” Severus said, grabbing his cloak and then pick up a small box from above the fireplace. He threw it into the flames, and the fires quickly turned from red to a vivid green. Harry had seen that little trick a few times before, whenever the man went to Hogwarts to do whatever he had to do before the beginning of term. He hadn’t actually asked what exactly it was that happened, though, and he figured now would be a good time.

Before Harry was able to form the question, however, Severus grabbed hold of Harry’s arm, and pushed him into the flames, following directly after him. After Severus clearly said ‘The Leaky Cauldron’, Harry once again felt how he was magically whirled away to another place. It wasn’t the same as how they had come to Severus’ home a few days ago, but it was very similar. He saw different views slide across his vision in rapid motion, and quickly closed his eyes to make sure he didn’t get nauseous. A few moments later he felt how Severus pushed him out of the fire once more, and he noticed how they were now standing in some some of bar.

“What was that?” Harry was finally able to asked.

“Floo travel,” Severus answered. “Now be silent, and follow me. It is way too crowded here.”

Harry looked around and noticed that the man was right. There were already a lot of people in the bar, even this early. Most of the people were paying them no attention, but he saw a few that were looking in their direction, some even whispering with eachother. He then noticed Severus was already almost at the other side of the bar, and quickly followed him.

Severus pushed open a door and they walked into a small alleyway behind the bar, a brick wall blocking the way a few paces further. Harry briefly wondered if he should ask if Severus was sure this was the right way, but decided not to. He had seen a lot of strange ways to travel these past couple of days, a brick wall probably wouldn’t form any problem either.

Severus proved him right, touching some of the bricks with the tip of his wand in what seemed like a pattern. The brick wall slowly started moving, opening a high archway for them to pass through. On the other side lay a busy street with strange and colourful shops at both sides. From where they were standing Harry could already see a bookshop, an ice cream parlour, and several other shops.

“We will first go to Gringott’s,” Severus said, gesturing towards the massive white building that could be seen at the end of the street. “I received the key to your vault from the Headmaster yesterday, so there should not be any problems. If the goblins decide to ask you questions, it is best to ignore them, and let me answer them. I am going to try and get out of the main hall as soon as we can, so we can speak in private. That way, nobody should be notified of who you are, which will help keep unwanted questions away.”

Harry nodded once more, and realised it was all he seemed to do these last couple of days. But then again, it was also what he had been doing for pretty much most of his life. At the Dursley’s he had quickly realised that as long as he nodded and kept his mouth shut, there was a smaller chance of people getting mad at him. 

 

***

 

A couple of minutes later, they stood before the giant snowy white building that was apparently called Gringotts. Next to the burnished bronze doors was a small creature about a head shorter than Harry, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, who bowed when they came up to it. Severus gave the creature a polite nod, and Harry quickly followed his example.

“What exactly was that, sir?” Harry asked, once they were past the creature.

“A goblin,” Severus answered. “They are in charge of Gringotts.”

They now faced a second pair of doors, this time in silver. Next to it was again a goblin who bowed when they approached. This set of doors had words engraved upon it:

 

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneat our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

 

Inside, there were long rows of desks, most occupied by a goblin, doing all kinds of things. Some where writing in giant books, others were weighing what seemed to be lumps of gold, silver and other precious metals.

Severus led him to one of the goblins at the end of one of the rows, where a pretty old-looking goblin was writing on loose sheets of what seemed like parchment. Harry noticed Severus didn’t say anything, and wondered why he didn’t try to catch his attention, but remembered he was supposed to not interfere with the talks with the goblins, so he kept his mouth shut. After what seemed to Harry like an eternity, the goblin finally looked up from his papers, and smiled at them. Or at least, Harry thought it was supposed to be a smile. It looked more like a grimace to him. But then again, the creature wasn’t human, so what did he know about facial expressions?

“What can I do for you today, Mr Snape?” the goblin asked.

It was the first time Harry had heard Severus’ last name, and he filed it away in his memory.

“I would like to retrieve some gold from the fault connected to this key,” Severus replied, handing over the key.

The goblin looked at the key a few moments, and then looked over towards Harry, before looking back at Severus.

“Is there a reason the boy is disguised?” the goblin asked.

“He would attract too much attention, as you can very well imagine, Ragnar. It is easier this way. Less unwanted attention. I’m sure him being disguised will not be any problem for retrieving the money?”

The goblin smiled again. “No, no problem. Although there is a chance that his disguise will stop working once we enter the lower parts of the dungeons. There are a lot of disenchantments in place, wards against intruders.”

“That will not be a problem,” Severus replied. “I can put them back on when we will leave again. As long as we can get going before the enchantments will be gone.”

“Very well then,” the goblin replied. “Griphook, accompany them downstairs.”

Another goblin, apparently named Griphook, led them through one of the doors that lead off from the hall, and into a dark and narrow stone passageway that was lit with flaming torches. There were little railway tracks in the ground, and when Griphook. They reminded Harry a bit of the mining cart he had once seen in a cartoon Dudley had watched, when he had been able to watch with him from the other side of the room, hidden from the sight of his nephew.

Ragnar stepped into one of the carts, followed by Severus, and Harry hesitated for only a moment before deciding that this was hardly the strangest thing he had done the last couple of days, and also stepped into the cart.

“Hold on,” Severus told Harry, before Ragnar pulled over a lever at the front of the cart and it sped away, into the darkness of the tunnels in front of them.

Harry only felt surprised for a couple of moments, before a feeling of joy overtook him. This speed, the force that worked on him when they went across corners and plunged into the depths of the dungeon annex cave, this was incredible. He felt like he was free, this almost weightless feeling one of the best thing he had felt in his life.

A few minutes later, Harry noticed his hair had grown again, and was back to it’s original colour. Apparently, the wards had undone Severus’ spells from earlier. There was nobody around to see them though, so Harry guessed it didn’t really matter anymore anyway.

Much too soon for Harry’s liking, they cart abruptly pulled too a stop, in front of vault number 687.

“Your vault,” Ragnar announced, before stepping out of the cart and opening the vault with the key Severus had given him earlier.

Ragnar opened the door and stepped aside, giving Harry a clear view. Inside, heaps of golden, silver and bronze coins were stacked.

“Is this, is this really all mine?” Harry asked.

“You are the last living Potter,” Severus answered. “Everything inside here is all yours now. Although I would advice you not to spend it all.”

Harry didn’t even know how to begin spending all this money. “I never had any money,” he mumbled.

“You always had money, you just did not know it,” Severus countered. He pulled a small pouch out of one of his pockets and handed it to Harry.

“Fill this with Galleons, those are the gold ones. Probably best to also grab some Sickles and Knuts, those are the silver and bronze ones.”

Harry quickly went inside and filled the pouch with what Severus had told him. He felt the weight of the pouch in his hand for a few moments, marvelled at the amount of gold he was now holding into his hands. He walked back outside and tried to give the pouch back to Severus, but he just shook his head.

“It is yours,” he said.

Harry still couldn’t quite believe he had anything he could actually call his. Something that was not borrowed or given to him, but was genuinely his own.

“But don’t you need anything? I mean, I’ve been living with you for a week now, and will continue to do so until school starts. I’m sure you must spend money on me.”

Severus looked at him for a moment, not saying anything. Harry thought he saw some sort of emotion flicker over his face, but it was gone before he could make out what it was.

“I do not need nor want the money, Harry. You are staying with me at the moment because I could not leave you with your aunt. I do not expect anything from you for that.”

Harry was wondering how to reply to that, when Severus climbed back into the cart, saving Harry the trouble.

Harry and Ragnar stepped back into the cart and once again Ragnar pulled the lever at the front. This time, the cart sped back the way they came from. During the ride, Harry wondered not for the first time why Severus was doing what he was doing. After all, he didn’t even know him.

 

***

 

Once they were back above ground, Severus put the enchantments back on Harry that changed his appearance, before saying goodbye to Ragnar and walking out of Gringotts again.

“Sir, can I ask you something?” Harry asked, looking at the ground.

“I already explained I do not object to you asking questions, Harry,” Severus replied.

“Why did you come and get me? Not that I mind, of course, I’m really glad you came to get me out of there, but I just wondered why? Nobody ever came for me, so why now?”

Severus was silent for a moment before answering. “I knew your mother. I do not believe she would have appreciated her son growing up with her sister. She and Petunia were not close at the end. Petunia did not like her sister being a witch. She grew jealous of her, and later changed that jealousy into hatred. Only recently I learnt you were living there. Had I known earlier, you would also have been taking away from them earlier.”

“Did you know my father as well, then?” Harry asked.

There was a flicker of emotion in Severus eyes, but it was immediately gone again. “Yes. He was in the same year as me, so I knew who he was.”

Harry got the feeling the man was not telling him everything, especially because there had to have been more people that had known his parents in school, but none of them had taken him away from the Dursley’s. He realised Severus probably didn’t want to talk about it, so he decided not to push. If it was important, he would probably learn about it soon enough.

“Okay. I’m glad you got me out of there, even if it wasn’t exactly for me then,” Harry replied.

“I did not say that,” Severus said, before looking away from Harry again.

Harry smiled. He had figured out early on that Severus never really showed emotion, but he was glad to know the man cared, in some way, about what happened to him. Although he obviously knew that already, with him taking him away from his aunt and uncle.

“Here’s your list of school supplies,” Severus said, handing him a sheet of parchment he pulled from his pockets, neatly changing the topic. He gestured to the bookstore in front of them. “The bookstore is over there, so you start with the books. I will pick up your potion supplies, seeing as I need to pick up some supplies of my own at the apothecary. I will be back to pick you up here. Don’t leave the store.”

Harry quickly said goodbye to Severus, and the man walked over to one of the shops across the street, while Harry headed in the direction of the bookstore.

Harry took a look at the list, and noticed he needed a lot of different books. Some sounded a bit dry, like ‘The Standard Book of Spells, Volume 1’ and ‘Magical Theory’ - although he had to admit he was interested to the theory behind spells - but others seemed more interesting, like ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’ and ‘The Dark Forces - A Guide to Self-Protection’. He also recognised some of the books that Severus’ had loaned to him and where at the moment standing on the little bookshelf in what he had finally started calling his room.

He smiled, knowing there was something at least he already knew a bit about. It would mean he at least wouldn’t be going into his classes clueless, which he certainly would have done if he was still stuck at the Dursley’s.

So lost he was in his own thoughts that he didn’t look where he was going, and walked right into someone. He looked up, hastily apologising, and noticed the girl he had walked into was just as lost in her thoughts as he had been. She had her head in a heavy book, and looked up a bit dazed, as if it took her some effort to get back to the here and now. She looked not much older than Harry was, and judging form her normal clothes, as opposed to all the people he had seen in what Severus had explained to him to be Wizarding Robes, she was probably Muggleborn.

“Are you also shopping for school supplies?” the girl asked, gesturing at the list of school supplies still in Harry’s hand.

“Yeah, just coming to pick up my books,” Harry replied.

“My name’s Hermione,” the girl introduced herself. “Going to be starting my first year at Hogwarts this September. Just found out I was a witch a couple of days ago when my letter arrived. My parents and I were so surprised. Excited too, of course. There’s so much different subject I know nothing about yet, so much books to read!”

Harry grinned. From what he had read about the Hogwarts Houses, this girl would probably fit right into Ravenclaw.

“Is there something funny?” the girl, Hermione, asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no,’ Harry hastily replied, afraid he had offended her. “Just nice to see you are so excited about going to Hogwarts. So your parents were not upset about you being a witch?”

“Upset?” Hermione echoed. “Of course not! Why would they? They were a bit uncomfortable with me going to a boarding school though, I have never really been away from them for more than a couple of days before. But as soon as Professor McGonagall explained the benefits of learning magic in a safe environment, away from non-magical people, they agreed. Were your parents upset then?”

Harry remembered how Severus had told him not too tell people who he was, and he wondered how best to answer the girls question. Eventually he decided on the truth. Or at least, what would have been the truth if his parents were still alive.

“My parents weren’t upset. They knew I was a wizard all along.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I had thought, with the way you dress, you were Muggleborn as well,” Hermione said, turning a bit red.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied.

“I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” the girl said.

“Oh, I’m.. Ehm, I’m James,” Harry replied, not able to quickly come up with any name except for his fathers. He guessed it wouldn’t matter much, seeing as it was a common name anyway.

“So, could you show me where the books are?” he asked. Hermione already had quite a few books in her arms, so he assumed she knew where he could find most of the ones on his list.

“Yeah, sure, follow me,” she said. She walked to the back of the store, Harry following her, and gestured to a bookcase on the right with a small sign ‘Hogwarts Textbooks’ above it, the books neatly sorted, one row for each year.

“These are the compulsory books, as far as I could tell. If you want any extra materials, you have to look for them in the appropriate section. Oh, and I would really recommend ‘Hogwarts, a History’ if you don’t have that one at home already. It explains a lot about the school and it’s history.”

Harry knew for a fact that Severus had a copy, seeing as that was also one of the books the man had loaned him to keep him occupied while he was away. Then again, he wouldn’t be staying there much longer, so it might be a good idea to pick up a copy for himself.

“I’ve read bits and pieces already, yeah. I think I might want one for myself,” Harry said. “It would be nice to be able to bring it with me.”

He picked a copy of each book on the shelf for first year textbooks, and then picked a copy of ‘Hogwarts, a History’ from the stack conveniently placed right next to the bookcase of textbooks.

“So, if you have known you were a wizard for a while, you know about Hogwarts already?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know that much. They didn’t really tell me much, but like I said, I’ve read a bit of ‘Hogwarts, a History’.”

“Do you have any idea yet what House you’ll be? I mean, I know that we will be sorted, and don’t choose ourselves, but I also know that Houses tend to run in the family. That doesn’t really help me, since I’m Muggleborn, but do you have any idea about yourself?”

Harry thought for a while. He didn’t actually know which House his parents had been in. He hadn’t thought to ask that of Severus yet. He did know about the properties usually assigned to each of the four Houses, and tried to imagine which House he would like to be in. The girl would probably be a Ravenclaw, but while he liked reading and learning about new stuff he didn’t think he liked it quite enough to be a Ravenclaw himself. And he never really had any friends, so the loyalty mostly assigned with Hufflepuff wasn’t really something he could judge within himself. Then again, if there was one thing the Dursley’s had taught him it was how to be hardworking. He didn’t really know if he was brave like Gryffindors were supposed to be. That left Slytherin, the House for the ambitious. He supposed he was ambitious in a way, he was determined to make something of himself while at Hogwarts. Given a chance to be away from Dudley and the rest of the Dursleys would mean he had a chance to just be himself and do his best, not having to worry about Dudley and his friends becoming mad when Harry scored higher or better on a test or assignment than them. And hadn’t Severus mentioned once he himself had been a Slytherin?

“I’m not sure. Like you said, we’re going to be sorted, it’s not like a choice. But I think I might become a Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?” Hermione asked, looking surprised. “But isn’t that like, the House where all the evil witches and wizards are?”

“Why would Slytherins be evil?” Harry asked, confused. “They’re ambitious and cunning, but that doesn’t make them evil.”

“But it’s said Slytherin is the House that produced most Dark Witches and Wizards,” Hermione continued. “So wouldn’t that mean Slytherin is sort of the House for Dark Witches and Wizards, and thus evil?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, shrugging. “I mean, from what I read students are spread pretty evenly amongst the four Houses. I can hardly believe a quarter of the witches and wizards would be evil, right? That just doesn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, okay, that does seem a bit much,” Hermione mumbled. “It’s just, I read that You-Know-Who was a Slytherin, and that most of his followers had been Slytherins as well. So I just kind of extrapolated from that, and then-”

She suddenly broke off and looked a little frightened at something behind Harry. He turned around to see what she was looking at, and saw Severus standing a couple of feet away from them, looking a bit chagrined. Then again, the man never really seemed to be happy, so Harry didn’t really pay all that much attention to what the expression.

“Because a sample of a whole seems to be exhibiting a certain characteristic, doesn’t mean the whole has that same charachteristic. Further more, it is unwise to extrapolate from that little information. You would do well to remember that. It will make sure you don’t make any unnecessary mistakes. It would be a shame for you to dismiss a quarter of your fellow students, most no more than children, because of an unjust assumption.”

Hermione turned red. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean- I will remember it.”

Severus turned towards Harry now. “Are you done? We’re leaving.”

Harry quickly nodded, said goodbye to Hermione and walked with Severus to pay for his books. The man was silent the entire way, until they were outside, but then again he didn’t seem like the talkative type, so Harry didn’t mind too much.

“I thought I had specifically told you not to talk to anyone?” Severus asked once they were back outside, one eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t tell her who I was, she doesn’t know,” Harry said, plucking at the sleeve of his jumper. “I walked into her, and she showed me where the books where, that’s all.”

“Still, do try and follow instructions,” Severus replied.

Harry couldn’t quite see how it was a big deal to have a friendly conversation with an eleven-year-old girl, but decided he didn’t really care anyway. If Severus didn’t want him to talk to people today, he would just do like he said. Once he was at Hogwarts, he would be able to talk with anyone he wanted. He made a mental note to say hello to the girl once he saw her at Hogwarts. He might not be able to tell her they met at the bookstore, but he could introduce himself again. She had seemed nice enough.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said. “I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“Just try not to let it happen again.”

 

***

 

“Last thing you need is a wand,” Severus said, nodding in the direction of a small shop on their right. Above the door were gold letters reading ‘Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.’

Harry followed him into the shop, smiling. After seeing the man use his own wand all the time around the house, he had been looking forward to getting a wand of his own.

Once inside, Harry felt strangely as through he had entered a very strict library; only with rows and rows of narrow boxes instead of books. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in the shop seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Harry jumped, while Severus didn’t seem surprised at all.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Hello,” Harry said a bit awkwardly.

The old man looked at Harry for a moment before looking over at Severus.

“Professor Snape, it’s not often I see you here. Since when do you accompany new students on their shopping trips?”

He didn’t wait for an answer however, but stepped closer to Harry. “What’s your name, boy?”

Harry wondered for a moment if he should give his real name or not. He decided to go with the one he had given the girl earlier as well.

“James, sir.”

The man cocked his head slightly, slowly circling around Harry, and he could practically see the gears in his brain turning.

“James, James. None of the main pureblood families have any children starting Hogwarts this year with the name James. None currently at Hogwarts either,” the old man mumbled, his silvery eyes not blinking even once.

“But you wouldn’t just take any new student shopping, would you, Professor? No, no, you wouldn’t. A pureblood with the name James. I can only think of one, and he did have a son that should start Hogwarts this year, didn’t he?” He then looked up at Severus, a faint smile on his face.

“Do me a favour and drop his disguise, would you? We’re going to be getting the boy his own wand, I’m going to need proper measurements.”

Harry looked at Severus, and the man raised one eyebrow, and asked, “James? Really? Of all the names, that is the one you chose?”

A moment later, Harry felt the strange tingling sensation wash over his body again. His hair fell back in his eyes in the usual way, and he absentmindedly brushed it aside.

“Harry Potter,” the old man said. “It’s good to see you. You have your mother’s eyes. Takes me back in time, it does.”

The man looked up at Severus. “It seems only yesterday the two of you were here yourself, buying your own wands.”

So he had been right. Severus had known his mother better than he had implied when Harry first asked. Now if only he could figure out how well they actually knew eachother. If they had bough their wands together, they must have known eachother as children. And since his aunt had seemed to know him as well, that made sense.

“Just get on with it, Ollivander,” Severus replied. “We are not here to chat about the past. I would like to get him back out of Diagon Alley as soon as possible, best without anyone having recognised him.”

“Of course, you’re not one that likes dealing with people, are you? No, no. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”

He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. “Which is your wand arm?”

“Er- Well, I’m right-handed,” Harry said.

“Hold out your arm. That’s it.” He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.

“Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand. The wand chooses the wizard, you see, and using a wand that hasn’t chosen you- Well, let’s just say trying to force magic isn’t the best idea.”

Harry suddenly realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

“That will do,” he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“Right then, Mr Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.”

Harry took the wand and, feeling foolish, waved it around a bit, but Mr Olivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-”

Harry tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.

“No, no - here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.”

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting and higher and higher, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feater, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

“Oh, bravo!” Mr Ollivander cried. “Yes indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…”

He put Harry’s wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering. “Curious… Curious…”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “but what’s so curious?”

Mr Ollivander fixed Harry with his stare and touched the lightning scar on his forehead with a long, white finger.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr Potter. Every single wand. I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that was responsible for your scar. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Phoenix feather core. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do… Phoenix feather cores are rare, because it’s hard to find a phoenix, let alone one that’s willing to give a feather. So for one to give two - this one did - just one other.”

Harry swallowed.

“It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand then. I think we must expect great things form you, Mr Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great.”

Harry shivered. He wasn’t sure he liked Mr Ollivander very much.

“Keep looking,” Severus suddenly said, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “He will not take the wand. Not if what you say is true.”

“I’m afraid that won’t work, Professor,” Mr Ollivander said. “We found Mr Potter’s wand, looking further won’t give us a different outcome. With a customer this tricky - look at the amount of wands we tried - it’s usually a sign the wizard is, or will be, very powerful. And with a wizard this powerful, finding a wand that accepts them - that can handle their power - isn’t easy. This is the wand that chose Mr Potter, and I’m positive it will be more than able to handle the power he will have later in life.”

“He will not be using a wand with the same core as the Dark Lord,” Severus answered, his voice very low, making the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end. “You will look further.”

“It is not the wand that is at fault for it’s wielders actions,” Mr Ollivander answered. “If anything, this curious turn of events tells us Mr Potter will become a great wizard. To reject the wand will not do him any good.”

“It’s alright, sir,” Harry answered, turning towards Severus. “It’s a bit strange, knowing it has the same core, but the wand itself really does feel like it’s my wand already. Like it’s, I don’t know, like it’s in tune with me, if that makes any sense.”

“Your wand is connecting with your magic, Mr Potter. For you to be able to feel it, especially this quickly.. I’m looking forward to what you will accomplish.”

Severus continued to glare at the box holding the holly wand for a few moments, before finally giving a small nod.

Harry couldn’t help the small grin breaking out on his face when paying for it, even knowing that it would probably annoy the man.

 

***

 

Once they had picked up the rest of his school supplies, this time without talking with any other people, it was time for them to go back. They were almost back at the Leaky Cauldron, the bar where they had arrived earlier that day, when Severus gestured to Eeylops Owl Emporium

“Hogwarts students are allowed a pet,” Severus said. “Go and pick one out for your birthday.”

Harry stared at the man, not sure if he had heard him correct.

“You know my birthday?” Harry asked.

“Of course I know your birthday,” Severus replied. “For that matter, I think most of the Wizarding World knows your birthday.”

“It’s just.. I never really got birthday presents,” Harry mumbled. “I was mostly just given some old clothes from Dudley, and that was if they were being generous.”

“Time to rectify that then,” Severus said. “Turning eleven is an important day in the Wizarding World, therefor you deserve a birthday present.”

Harry walked into the store, followed by Severus. It was quite dark inside, the owls probably preferring the dim lighting, and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes.

There were owls in all sorts, sizes and colours he could imagine. But one owl immediately caught his attention. In the far back of the shop sat a beautiful white snow owl who was busy cleaning her feathers.

Harry walked towards her, and slowly outstretched his hand.

“Be careful,” Severus warned him. “They can bite.”

The snow owl didn’t bite him, however, but just turned her head to the side and stared at him. After a few moments of looking at him like this she outstretched one of her feet, and carefully placed it on Harry’s still outstretched hand. He brought his hand a little closer towards her, trying to keep it as still as he could, and felt her claws digging into it a bit, but then she hopped onto it.

“She must like you,” a shop clerk said, appearing behind them. “She doesn’t usually react to customers. Would you like to purchase her?”

“Are you sure you want to buy me a pet?” Harry asked Severus. “I mean, I can pay for it myself. After all you’ve done already, you surely do not have to buy me a birthday present. It’s more than enough that I have been able to be away from the Dursley’s this last week.”

“Stop protesting,” Severus said, putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I will get you this owl for your birthday, if you just promises me one thing.”

“And that is?” Harry asked.

“To never tell anyone that I was the one who bought it for you,” Severus replied.

Harry grinned. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

"But isn't that like, the House where all the evil witches and wizards are?"

Credit: [Raafling](http://raafling.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! And I love getting comments, so don't be shy. ;)
> 
> See you all next week. :)


	4. The Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, university caught up with me, and I haven't had a lot of time to spend writing/editing. Next chapter is almost done, however, so we're hopefully back to our regular update schedule from now on.
> 
> A special thank-you to [Clarissa](%E2%80%9Dyoucankissmycas.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D), who helped me figure out my characterizations of Ernie and Susan.
> 
> This work is un-beta'd, so I'm sorry for any mistakes that may still be here. If you are interested in becoming my beta, leave a comment or drop me an ask on [tumblr](nerinelunacyran.tumblr.com).

Harry walked into King’s Cross. Severus had gone to Hogwarts earlier that day, explaining how he had to get to platform 9 3/4, before leaving Harry alone. Something about having lots of things to do before the students arrived. Harry was a bit nervous about going to the station alone, but from Severus’ explanation it didn’t sound particularly difficult, so it should all turn out fine.

When he got to the wall between platforms 9 and 10 he saw a family of redheads discussing who would get first. Harry decided not to wait for them, and walked past them, smiling when he did. He walked right towards the wall, getting some more speed just before going through, just to get rid of the nerves that were starting to get to him. What would happen if he just hit the wall and bounced back? He knew of course that that would not happen, there were enough magical ways he had travelled this past month to know the strangest things were possible, and walking through a wall was by far not the strangest.

He went right through the wall and came out on platform 9 3/4. The platform was already full of families saying goodbye to their children, and children greeting friends they had not seen over the summer. Behind them was a bright red train, looking a bit like an old steam powered train. Harry assumed the train was also powered by some form of magic, because he had quickly learnt nothing was as it seemed in the magical world.

He looked around, feeling a bit jealous of the children that were hugged by their parents, but quickly set the thought out of his mind. There was no use thinking about what could have been. His parents were dead, there was nothing he could do about it anymore. Still, a small part of his mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if his aunt and uncle didn’t hate him, or if he had just been brought to a different family. Surely, there would have been some sort of foster care system that had families that would have been more than happy to take care of an orphan wizard like him.

Realising he was getting lost in thoughts of ‘what could be’, Harry decided to get his luggage on the train and find someplace to sit. He walked over towards one of the train doors, his luggage rolling behind him, and Hedwig’s cage in his other hand. The cage was easily put onto the train, but his suitcase was rather heavy, and Harry struggled to try and get it into the train. Realising he wasn’t going to be able to get it on the train alone, he put it back down and wiped the sweat of his brow.

“Need some help?” someone asked from behind.

Harry turned around and realised it were two of the boys from the redheaded family he had passed by earlier. From the way they looked alike, he assumed they were twins.

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” Harry answered. “It’s quite heavy.”

“Should have placed a Shrinking Charm on it,” the one on the left said.

“Or a Feather-light Charm,” the one on the right continued.

Together, the two of them hoisted Harry’s suitcase on the train.

“Fred, George, what’s taking so long?” someone asked from inside the train.

“Sorry, got to go,” one of them said.

“See you around kid,” the other said.

Before Harry had a chance to thank them for helping him, they had disappeared down the hallway.

“Could you move aside, please?”

Harry quickly stepped aside, and a black-haired girl stepped into the train, her suitcase held in one hand like it weighed nothing. Probably because of that Feather-light Charm one of those twins mentioned.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “Didn’t mean to block the entrance.”

“That’s okay,” the girl answered, smiling. “You a first year as well?”

Harry nodded. “Sorry again. I’ll just get out of your way and go look for somewhere to sit.”

“Really, it’s alright,” the girl answered. “We can look for a compartment together, if you want? If you’re not looking for friends, that is. I’m Tracey by the way.”

“I”m Harry. And yeah, I mean no, I’m not looking for anyone, don’t really know anyone.”

Tracey chuckled. “Let’s go find an empty compartment.”

The two of them searched for a compartment, their suitcases trailing behind them. Finding an empty one turned out to be harder than Harry had expected. Most of them already contained small groups of people, some still in muggle clothing, some already in wizarding robes.

It was a few compartments down the hall that Tracey seemed to recognise someone inside, because she smiled when looking inside. She opened the compartment door, gesturing for Harry to follow her. “Would you mind if we join you?”

Inside were two people, a blond boy and a strawberry blond girl, who both looked up at them.

“Hey Tracey, come in. There’s space enough for you two,” the boy replied.

The four of them quickly got the suitcases moved out of the way, and the blond boy started their conversation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, have I?” he asked, looking at Harry. “Are you starting this year as well?”

“Yeah, I’m a first year,” Harry answered. “Just met Tracey on the train, to be honest. I didn’t know anyone else, so she offered to look for a compartment together.”

“Well then, let’s make sure you get to know some people, shall we?” the boy replied. “My name’s Ernie Macmillan, and this here is Susan Bones.”

The girl on his right smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re Amelia Bones’ niece, right?” Tracey asked.

Susan nodded. “Yeah, Amelia’s my aunt.”

“She just became the new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, right? Could you congratulate her on behalf of my family when you next speak to her? I’m Tracey Davis by the way.”

“I will, thank you,” Susan said, smiling. She then turned towards Harry. “So, that’s three people you have met and the train has barely left the station. Now, what about you?”

Harry smiled back at her. “Nice to meet you all. I’m Harry Potter.”

All three of them were now staring at Harry, making him a bit uncomfortable. “What?”

“You’re Harry Potter?” Ernie finally managed to get out. “As in, THE Harry Potter?”

“Uhm, yes?” Harry answered, feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer they looked at him like he was some kind of celebrity. “Look, I’m just-”

He was interrupted by someone knocking on their compartment door. A moment later it was opened by Hermione, the girl he had met at the bookstore. Behind her stood a nervous-looking boy with short brown hair.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione asked, “but have you seen a toad? Neville here has lost his.”

They all shook their heads. Harry wondered how you could loose a toad, and why you would even want a toad. He figured it was not his place to judge, however, and that if the boy wanted a toad that was his choice.

“Don’t worry though,” Ernie said, smiling at the nervous boy. “There’s enchantments on the train to make sure pets can’t escape. Even if you don’t find him before we’re at Hogwarts, he will just be transported to your room.”

They can just see the nervousness falling off of the boy, and his face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re not the first one to loose a pet on the train, you know.”

“Thanks for the info,” Hermione said, before turning to the boy behind her. “Come on Neville, let’s go find someplace to sit.”

“You can sit here if you want,” Susan said. “There’s still some space.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, before coming inside, Neville following behind her. “I’m Hermione Granger, and this is Neville.”

“Neville Longbottom,” the boy continues, still seeming a bit shy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Augusta Longbottom’s your grandmother, right?” Ernie asked. “I’m Ernie Macmillan. My grandmother is friends with yours, I believe.”

“Could be,” Neville mumbled. “I don’t really know who she is friends with though.”

Susan and Tracey introduced themselves after that as well, and Neville and Hermione both turned to Harry, waiting for his introduction. Out of the corner of his eyes Harry could see Tracey grinning slightly, obviously waiting for their reaction.

Harry sighed. “Please don’t treat me any different, okay? My name’s Harry Potter.”

Neville gasped, while Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, before her expression quickly turned to one of excitement. “You’re Harry Potter? Oh, I’ve read all about you of course. You’re mentioned in ‘Famous Witches and Wizards of the Last Century’ and ‘The Rise and Fall of Dark Wizards’, as well as various other books on wizarding history.”

“I am?” Harry asked, a bit surprised. He knew that apparently he was sort-of well-known in the Wizarding World, but he hadn’t exactly expected his name to be mentioned in History books.

“Oh, you’re only about the most famous underage wizard of our time,” Tracey joked. “Of course you are mentioned in at least a few books.”

“You didn’t know?” Hermione asked. “If I were you I would have looked up everything that mentioned me. You never did that?”

“I never knew,” Harry answered. “They never told me. I never knew I was famous.”

“But didn’t you read the papers?” Susan asked, frowning. “I mean, over the summer your name has been on the front page of the Prophet at least once a week! There’s been all sorts of editorials and speculation on whether or not you would be going to Hogwarts this year, or if you were going to be home schooled or maybe even go abroad for your education. And of course there’s always been the speculation on where you were living, and with whom.”

Harry groaned. He really didn’t feel comfortable knowing that he was a household name when he himself hadn’t even known the truth until about a month ago.

“I grew up in the Muggle world. I didn’t know about all this stuff until this summer. And why is everyone so interested in me? I don’t even know what happened. Why do they care so much?”

“Because you defeated him,” Neville answered softly, looking at his lap. “You defeated him, when nobody was able to. You ended the war, when you weren’t even able to speak yet. Of course you’re famous.”

“But that’s just it!” Harry exclaimed. “I was not even able to talk yet. I have no clue what happened, I can’t even remember anything from that age. Why celebrate a baby surviving someone trying to kill him?”

“Because you’re the only person who has,” Hermione explained. “The Killing Curse is unblockable. You can’t survive it. Except you did.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know how, so I don’t see why people should treat me like I’m special.”

“Oh, nobody said you were special, Harry,” Tracey said.

Harry looked at her, not quite sure how to take that comment, when she winked at him and grinned. A moment later, their compartment was filled with laughter, and the ice between them broken.

They talked about a lot of things during the trainride. The general stuff you talked about when getting to know new people: what they liked to do in their spare time, what they were interested in, their family. They shared silly stories about their childhood, and their first shows of magic - apparently Neville had been held out of a window by one of his uncles, who had accidentally let go of him. Eventually, an old lady with a cart full of wizarding sweets came by, and among the six of them, they got some of everything. They were sharing the stuff back in their compartment when the conversation turned to the four Hogwarts Houses.

“I think I’m going to be a Hufflepuff,” Susan said. “My mom was a Hufflepuff, same as my aunt. I know Hufflepuff’s might not always have the best reputation, that they’re often seen as the leftovers or something, but I don’t really care. I mean, my aunt is now a Department Head. So much for leftovers, right?”

“My whole family has been Hufflepuff too,” Ernie said. “And we’re definitely not the leftover House. So yeah, Hufflepuff would be nice. Although I could see myself as a Ravenclaw as well.”

“Why are Hufflepuffs considered leftovers?” Harry asked. He didn’t see how being loyal was not considered a good trait.

“Hufflepuff traits don’t seem as spectacular as those from the other three houses, I guess,” Ernie answered, shrugging. “But I personally think loyalty is an admirable trait, be it to your family, your friends or your House.”

“Although sometimes it can be good to go against your family or friends a bit. It’s how my parents go together,” Tracey said.

“My mother was a Slytherin, my father a Ravenclaw, and muggleborn on top of that. My grandparents didn’t exactly approve of her choice, but they fell in love during their schoolyears, and she didn’t quite care about their opinion.”

“So, no clear House affiliation through your parents,” Ernie commented. “Any preference yourself?”

Tracey shrugged. “Both are fine. Although I think I might be more of a Slytherin myself, to be honest. I like to think of myself as ambitious, I want to prove myself, you know. Show my grandparents that just because my father was muggleborn, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be able to become a great witch.

“It’s not like I don’t value learning as well, it’s just that I don’t really see myself as a Ravenclaw? I wouldn’t really mind to be sorted there though.”

“Aren’t you worried about prejudice in Slytherin, though?” Susan asked. “I mean, since your father was muggleborn.”

Tracey shook her head. “I was raised in the Wizarding World, raised as a witch. For Slytherin, that’s the most important thing. And my father’s still a wizard, not a muggle. So it shouldn’t matter too much. I’m sure I’ll be fine if I do get sorted in Slytherin.”

Harry noticed that Neville had become a bit paler, and asked him if there was something wrong.

Neville quickly shook his head, but he was making sure not to look at Tracey.

Harry quickly realised what was going on, and apparently so did Hermione.

“Slytherin doesn’t have the best reputation. You know, what with You-Know-Who being a Slytherin, and most of his Death Eaters being Slytherins as well. Doesn’t necessarily mean the whole House is bad of course, but it does give it a bit of a tricky reputation.”

Harry inwardly smiled, glad to hear that Severus’ little speech had changed her mind at least a little about Slytherin. Next to him, Tracey squared her shoulders, clearly ready to get into an argument. Harry quickly beat her to it, hoping to keep the conversation friendly.

“I know Slytherin does not always have the best reputation, and obviously there’s no denying that You-Know-Who and most of his followers came from Slytherin. But judging a quarter of the school based on that seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Harry asked. “I mean, a quarter of the school can hardly be evil, right?”

Neville looked at Harry, and he could still see the doubt in his expression, but the boy seemed to be trying to see what Harry meant.

“You don’t think Slytherin is a House for those more likely to go dark?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. To be honest, I just don’t really believe in prejudice all that much. Got enough of that back in primary school, because of my cousin. I think I might even become a Slytherin myself, you know.”

Neville stares at him after that, and Harry notices the others do too.

“What?”

“Why?” Neville asks, his eyes widened slightly. “Your parents were Gryffindors. The Potters have always been Gryffindor.”

“Except for the fact that the last line of Potters were partly Black as well, seeing as Charlus Potter married Dorea Black. And the Blacks have always been Slytherins.”

Harry looked at Ernie, blinking a few times. Was there still family left alive?

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“I’m a pureblood,” Ernie answered, shrugging. “Knowing about the other pureblood houses is part of our upbringing. Both the Potters and Blacks were respected pureblood families.”

“Were?” Harry asked. He had noticed Ernie’s choice of tense.

“Well, you’re the last Potter, so there’s not really that much family to speak of on that part,” Tracey answered. “And as for the Blacks, the only one that still carries that name is currently locked up in Azkaban.”

The hope Harry had felt when Ernie mentioned family quickly fell again. He should have known of course, they wouldn’t have needed to bring him to his aunt Petunia if there was other family available to take him in. Still, he couldn’t help but hope that somehow, somewhere, there was still a relative that would agree to let him stay with them.

“That’s our prison, by the way,” Susan added. Harry was glad for the explanation, not having to ask for it himself now. He really didn’t want to seem like he knew nothing about the Wizarding World, but there was just so much he hadn’t had a chance to learn about yet.

Deciding not to dwell on that particular subject, Harry turned to Neville. “So how about you? Where do you think you’ll go?”

Neville shrugged. “I don’t know. The Longbottoms have mostly been Gryffindors, but I don’t know if that’s really me. I mean, Gryffindors are brave, and I’m scared to even ask if someone has seen Trevor.”

“Gryffindors are more stupid than brave, you know,” Tracey said, grinning. “So I wouldn’t worry about that too much.”

Ernie elbowed her and gave her a disapproving look. “Don’t listen to Tracey, she just likes to joke around. Gryffindors are no more stupid than Hufflepuffs are leftovers.”

“Well, they could do with thinking things through before diving headfirst into them sometimes.”

“That’s something everyone could benefit from, Tracey. Not really a Gryffindor thing,” Susan replied. “And Neville, being a Gryffindor isn’t just about being brave. To be honest, those who believe they are brave are more often than not just arrogant.

I think it’s about standing up for what you believe is right. My aunt once explained it to me as following your heart.”

“So you’re saying the other Houses don’t stand up for what they believe is right?” Tracey asked, raising an eyebrow at Susan.

“No, of course that’s not what I’m saying,” Susan replied, sounding a little offended. “I’m just saying that that’s the most important thing to a Gryffindor. They follow their heart, their gut feeling. Every House would be more than capable to do the same thing, but it might not be their first priority. Like, a Ravenclaw would probably be more inclined to follow their head, instead of their heart.”

“It seems to me like it’s a really tricky system,” Hermione said. “I mean, these Houses are pretty much build around these sort of core believes, personalities, so to speak. But people are not that simple.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, nodding. He had thought the same thing to himself over the course of the summer. “For example, Gryffindor and Slytherin. They seem to not get along all that well. But one is apparently about being brave, the other about being ambitious. But being one of those doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t also be the other. Why couldn’t someone be brave and ambitious?”

“But you probably favour one over the other, right?” Tracey asked. “So for me, my parents were a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw. Myself, I like to think I’m both ambitious and value learning and knowledge. But there will always be one thing that I think is more important than the others. Doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t also think those other things are important.”

“But why only look at your parents or your family?” Hermione asked. “You are all talking about where your parents were sorted, which House your family was usually in, but why would you have to be the same as your parents?”

“Hermione, are you muggleborn?” Ernie asked.

She nodded. “I’m the first magical person in my family, as far as we know.”

“Okay, so you’re not raised the same way most of us were. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying it’s different. But if you look at your own parents, your own family, they have things they believe are important, right? And they probably raised you in such a way that you find those things important too. It’s something like that.”

“I think it also has much to do with where you feel comfortable,” Susan added. “Like you said, there’s probably a lot of us who could be sorted in multiple houses. But there’s also probably one of those that you would be more comfortable with. And for a lot of people from wizarding families that’s the house their family was from.”

Harry thought that sounded quite logical and reasonable. If you were going to be spending seven years with people from one of the Houses, there was probably one you would be more likely to want to belong to. And being in the same House as the others in your family probably mattered for that reason. He just wasn’t sure what that meant for him. After all, his parents might have been Gryffindors, but it wasn’t as if they were still around to share that with him. And apparently, he was also related to a family that had consisted primarily of Slytherins.

“So what about you, Hermione?” Neville asked.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure. Like I said, to me, it just doesn’t seem all that simple. There is something admirable in the traits of all four Houses. Although, if I had to choose- No, I don’t think I could pick one. But that’s what the Sorting is for, isn’t it?”

“We’ll see where we end up,” Neville said, a weak smile on his face. He was obviously trying hard not to think about it too much. Harry was pretty sure everyone in their compartment could see how nervous he really was, but nobody said anything. In truth, they were all probably just as nervous, only better at hiding it.

 

***

 

When the train slowed down and finally stopped, their group of six walked out of the train together, now all dressed in their school robes. They stayed close together, trying not to loose sight of each other in the stream of other students that also left the train and walked out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Having no idea where they were supposed to go, Harry looked over towards Ernie, since he seemed to know the most out of the six of them.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

Harry looked around for the origin of the sound, as well as the others, and soon saw a gigantic man standing at about the middle of the platform, holding a lantern. He pointed him out to the others, and together they walked towards the huge man. They were trying to stay together, but the amount of students that stood huddled together on the small platform made it difficult. They eventually managed to arrived in front of the man, still together.

The man scanned the crowd of students in front of him, counting under his breath. After a few moment he seemed to be satisfied that everyone was there, for he turned around and started walking away from the platform.

“C’mon, follow me!” he called. “Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there.

“Is he a giant?” Harry whispered to Tracey, who was walking next to him. Behind him, he heard someone sniffing once or twice, and he suspected it was Neville. He couldn’t really blame him though, it was cold and dark, not exactly what you could call a warm welcome.

“Giants are a lot bigger that that,” Tracey whispered back. “But I think there’s some giant blood in his family somewhere at least.”

Harry tried to imagine how big real giants were suppose to be then, but quickly realised he probably didn’t want to know.

“Ye’ all get yer firs’ sight of Hogwarts in a sec,” the man called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

Several students gasped.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

“No more than four to a boat!” the man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Tracey were followed into their boat by Ernie and Susan. Next to them, Hermione and Neville were followed into a boat by a pair of dark-haired twins.

Harry noticed that the boats didn’t seem to have any oars, and figured that once more, they were moved by magic. He wondered if wizards and witches used magic for everything, even the things that were easily done the normal way. Then again, magic was probably the normal way from their point of view.

“Everyone in?” shouted the man, who had a boat to himself. “Right then - FORWARD!”

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

Harry looked around at the students in the other boats, curious to their reactions to the castle. After all, he had had no idea about Hogwarts, but maybe the other students who had known about it all their lives, where less impressed than him. Maybe this was a normal thing in the Wizarding World. He smiled when he noticed that every single student seemed to be just as impressed by the castle as he was, seeing people smile or point out things to others in their boat.

“Heads down!”

They all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until the they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Following the light of the lantern the man was holding, they clambered up a passageway in the rock, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

“Everyone here?”

The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably recognised some stuff at the end, which is because I (obviously) copied some parts from the books. Next chapter will have some more stuff from the book - for example Professor McGonagall's welcome speech - but after that it will be mostly mine. I just couldn't find a way to not use Rowling's words for these parts, other than skipping them entirely. Which I also didn't want to do, because there's some of my own stuff mixed into these parts as well. So yeah, I don't take credit for anything you recognise from the books, and I hope you guys don't mind too much.
> 
> And I love comments, by the way ;)


	5. Sorting Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a bit of Rowling's text is used in this chapter, because I couldn't exactly not use it. After this there's going to be lost and lots of original stuff, though ^.^

The door swung open at once. A tall, grey-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry’s first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.”

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

Had the woman just called the man Hagrid? Harry quickly looked at him again. Severus had told him it was possible he had been picked up by a man named Hagrid, and his dream had featured a man that seemed to him at the time like a giant. Could this man be the one who had taken him to the Dursleys then? And if he did, did he know what he had brought him to? But then again, if this man knew him, why didn’t he say anything earlier?

The professor pulled the door wide open. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out in the dim light, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be there - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in teh Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Her eyes lingered a moment on Neville’s cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and a read-haired boy a bit to Harry’s right. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair, although he knew it wouldn’t help any.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”

 

***

 

Harry turned around to look at the group he had shared a compartment with in the train, and saw they were standing at the side of the big group of students, their back resting against the wall.

Harry walked over towards them when suddenly Susan let out a little shriek. Several other people also screamed.

A ghost, pearly-white and slightly transparant, had just streamed through the wall, passing straight through Susan.

“That really is the worst feeling, you know,” Susan said, brushing her hair back into place, and her robes back into their orderly state.

“My apologies, my fair lady,” the ghost replied, making a little bow. “It was not my intention to fly through anybody.”

A few moments later, more ghosts streamed through the wall, which Susan and the others had quickly took a few steps back from. They glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.

What looked like a fat little monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -”

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost.”

“Maybe we should continue this discussion elsewhere,” another said. “Since it seems that we’ve got company here.”

“New students!” the Fat Friar exclaimed, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”

A few people nodded mutely.

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old house, you know.”

“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Ernie and Susan, with Tracey, Hermione and Neville following behind him. Together, they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

 

***

 

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. He had read ‘Hogwarts, a History’ after Hermione had recommended the book in Florish & Blotts, but even with the descriptions in there what he had pictured had not come close to reality.

The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Harry spotted Severus, but the man gave no indication he had seen him. Harry understood that they could not let it show that they knew eachother already, but the recognition would probably have helped with his nerves.

Professor McGonagall led the first year up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. Harry wondered if Severus was paying him any attention, or if he regarded all students the same.

The hundreds of faces staring at them from the four House tables looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, to no one in particular, “It’s bewitched to lok like the sky outside. I read about it in ‘Hogwarts, a History’.”

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open on to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard’s hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, but he quickly put the thought out of his mind. From what little he had read and learned from Severus, pulling rabbits out of hats wasn’t actually something most wizards ever did.

Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing.

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,

But don’t judge on what you see,

I’ll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There’s nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can’t see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You migth belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindor apart;

You migth belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Thoes patient Hufflepuffs are ture

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you’ve a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You’ll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don’t be afraid!

And don’t get in a flap!

You’re in safe hands (though I have non)

For I’m a Thinking Cap!”

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sti on teh stool to be sorted,” she said.

“Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtaisl stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down ove rher eyes, and sat down. A moments pause -

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. She looked back at Harry and the others from their compartment, and gave them a small smile.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the twins that had helped him load his trunk on the train catcalling.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin.

Harry started to become a bit sick by now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. “Fininigan, seamus” the sandy-haired boy next to Harry, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione almost ran at the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. She turned out to be one of the students the hat took a little longer to sort.

“RAVENCLAW!” the hat eventually called out. Harry smiled slightly, happy that his prediction had come true.

A horrible thought then struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? What if they would send him back to the Dursley’s after all?

When Neville was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a lont time to decide with Neville as well. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag.”

“MacMillan, Ernest” XXX

When “Malfoy, Draco” was called, a platinum blond boy swaggered forward. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”

The boy went to join the other Slytherins, looking very pleased with himself.

There weren’t many people left now. “Moon”, “Nott”, Parkinson”, followed by the twins that had shared a boat with Neville and Hermione, “Patil” and “Patil” - who interesting enough, got sorted in different houses, one Ravenclaw, one Gryffindor - then “Perks, Sally-Anne” and then, at last -

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

“Potter, did she say?”

“The Harry Potter?”

Harry sighed, decided to just block all the whispers from being picked up by his brain, and walked over towards the four-legged stool.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent. My goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting… So where shall I put you?”

“Oh, you’re confused about where you would want to go, aren’t you? Your parents were both Gryffindors, but Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that.”

“Ah, you don’t think you are brave enough to be a Gryffindor? Let me tell you something, Mr Potter, those who believe themselves to be brave often are not, or are more foolish than courageous. But I guess the decision has been made, has it not?”

“SLYTHERIN!” the Hat exclaimed, and somehow Harry knew it had been said for all too hear, not only him. It was just a small difference in the way it felt. As if some magic senses, for lack of a better description, in him had realised the difference between being talked to in his head by a magically speaking Sorting Hat or hearing something like he would normally hear something. He decided to not think about it too much, and just accept it.

He picked the Sorting Hat up from his head, and gave it back to a baffled looking Professor McGonagall, just at the moment that the Slytherin table burst out into a loud applause.

Harry grinned, walking over towards the Slytherin table. Others might think all Slytherins were just an evil bunch, but he knew firsthand that they could also be kind, and at the moment, he considered Severus, the first Slytherin he had met, his own personal hero. After all, he had been the one that had saved him from the Dursleys, and there was no way Harry couldn’t be grateful for that.

It wasn’t until Harry had taken a seat next to Tracey that he realised professor McGonagall hadn’t called a new student yet. Looking around, he saw that everyone in the Great Hall was still staring at him.

A few moments later Professor McGonagall finally called out the next person on the list and people finally stopped staring at him, only to resume the whispered conversations that had started before. Harry decided to just not pay them any attention, and watched the rest of the Sorting.

There were only three people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a Black boy quite a bit taller than Harry, joined the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and “Weasley, Ron” became a Gryffindor. The boy was heartily greeted by the red-headed twins, and Harry figured they were family. There were quite a few red-headed boys over at the Gryffindor table, he noticed.

“Zabini, Blaise,” another Black boy, was made a Slytherin. He walked over to their table, a small smile on his face, and sat down next to Harry.

 

***

 

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away while the old wizard that was seated in the middle of the Head Table stood up. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!”

He sat back down. The students at the other tables clapped and cheered, but the Slytherin table was a lot less exuberant. There were still many students clapping politely, but there didn’t seem to be anyone cheering. Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“Is he - a bit mad?” he asked Tracey uncertainly.

“Mad?” the blond boy that sat across from Harry said. “Of course he’s mad. It’s Dumbledore.”

“I’m not sure if he’s mad,” Tracey replied, shrugging. “But he is a bit strange, yes. Potatoes, Harry?”

Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it had made him sick.

When they had all loaded their plates with whatever they liked, one of the ghosts they had seen earlier came towards them, a man that seemed to have come from a very early timeperiod, with silvery bloodstains all over his front. He seated himself - as far as a ghost could be considered seated - next to the blond boy across from Harry, who did not seem to pleased by that fact. A few of the others didn’t seem to happy about the ghost sitting so close to them either.

“Welcome to Slytherin,” the ghost said. “I’m the Baron of Slytherin House, you can call me Baron.”

Harry mumbled a half-hearted hello, and he thought some of the others might as well.

“That’s not a proper greeting, young Slytherins!” the Baron exclaimed. “Do the old families not raise their children properly anymore? House Malfoy, House Greengrass, House Potter, they’re all proper families. I’d expected more of you.”

“We’re sorry, sir,” one of the girls said a bit hesitantly. Harry thought she was called Daphne. “We did not mean to be disrespectful, we’re just not really used to ghosts yet. And your appearance is a bit, well, it’s a bit-”

“There’s no need to focus on my appearance,” the Baron interrupted her. “Now, I’m sure you’re going to make Slytherin proud, aren’t you?”

He flew away from them again without waiting for an answer. Harry released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and the others seemed to relax a bit more as well.

“Thanks for that save,” Tracey said to the brown-haired girl.

The girl smiled. “I’m glad I was able to. And also that he’s gone again, to be quite honest.”

Harry couldn’t help but agree with that statement. He thought he could get used to the idea of ghosts in general quite soon, but there was just something about that Baron that was making him feel uneasy. The blood on his robes obviously didn’t help with that.

“I see you’ve met the Bloody Baron,” an older-looking girl said, seating herself in the space the ghost had just left. “Don’t worry too much about him. He might seem a bit scary, but he’s really quite friendly to us Slytherins.”

“What happened to him?” Harry asked. “I mean, what with the blood and all.”

The girl shrugged. “No one knows. He has never told anyone, and nobody particularly wants to ask, either.”

“I’m Gemma Travers by the way, one of your prefects. We will all introduce ourselves properly later, but we just wanted to let you know at least one of us already. If there’s anything you need to know, feel free to ask, I’m sitting over there.” She pointed at a spot a little further along the table. “We’ll do the first official Slytherin Meeting either after the feast, or tomorrow morning, depending on how awake you are later tonight. Most things will be explained then, so if your questions aren’t really urgent, it’s best to wait for the meeting. For now, just enjoy your meal.”

With that, she left again, and Harry and the others finished their meals without talking about anything in particular.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jelly-O, rice pudding, and many, many more.

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, they started on actual introductions.

“So, Potter, good to see you’re a Slytherin. We’re happy you decided to join us,” the blond boy across from Harry said. “Now most of us know each other already, or at least by name, but seeing as you pretty much disappeared since the end of the war, I’m not sure how much you know?”

Harry wondered what exactly the boy was asking him. Did he want to know how much he knew about the people currently sitting around him? Or about the Wizarding World in general?

“I haven’t really been into contact with the Wizarding World until this summer,” Harry said, figuring that would probably tell the boy what he wanted to know.

The boy looked shocked at that. “You mean to say you were living in the Muggle world?”

Harry nodded. “I lived with my aunt and uncle, until about halfway through the summer. Dumbledore decided it was better if I grew up away from the Wizarding World.”

“No wonder nobody knew where you were,” the boy answered, shaking his head. “Harry Potter growing up in the Muggle World, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But you’re living with a proper family now, right?” one of the girls asked, looking worried. “I mean, you’re not living with muggles anymore?”

“I’m not living with them anymore, no, but that’s about all I can say. And uhm, as far as knowing people, you can pretty much assume I know nobody.” Harry felt a bit selfconscious, saying that, but figured it was probably best to make sure they understood right away. It would probably be worse if they thought he knew someone or something, only to later figure out he didn’t.

“So official introductions are in order,” the boy replied, looking around at the other first years, who all nodded at him. Harry got the feeling the boy was like a leader to their group, and couldn’t help but feel left out a bit. They seemed to all know each other already, and he hadn’t even been able to remember their names from the Sorting.

“I’ll start,” the boy continued. “I’m Draco Malfoy, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. Pureblood, obviously. No siblings.”

“I’m Daphne Greengrass,” the girl to Draco’s right said. Harry was glad to learn that he had remembered her name correctly. “I’m the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. Also pureblood, which the title already says of course. I have a sister, Astoria, she’s two years younger than me.”

“Pansy Parkinson,” a girl a bit farther down the table on Draco’s left continued. Harry noticed the two boys that flanked Draco on either side were skipped over, and wondered if they were maybe following some sort of ranking system.

“I’m the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson. No siblings.”

“Theodore Nott,” the boy on Harry’s left introduced himself. “Son to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Nott. I have one older brother, who is the Heir.”

“Millicent Bulstrode,” the girl next to Theodore continued. “Daughter to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bulstrode. I’ve got two older brothers, and one younger brother. The oldest is the Heir.”

“Blaise Zabini,” the dark-skinned boy at the end of the table introduced himself. “I’m the Heir to the House of Zabini. No siblings.”

“Vincent Crabbe,” the boy to Draco’s left said. “Pureblood. No siblings.”

“Gregory Goyle,” the boy to Draco’s right followed. “Pureblood. No siblings.”

Harry then turned to Tracey, who was the last one to introduce herself. She smiled at him.

“Well, I’ve already introduced myself to Harry, but whatever. I’m Tracey Davis, half-blood. My father was a muggleborn wizard, my mother a pureblood witch.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Harry said, smiling at them, not quite sure how to introduce himself. After all, they knew who he was already, and he wasn’t really sure if he or his family had any titles or whatever.

“I’m Harry Potter, but you knew that already, of course. And I’m not quite sure what my standing in terms of family is, to be honest.”

“You’re the last Potter,” Draco said. “Which currently makes you the Heir to the House of Potter. You’re technically Lord of the House of Potter, but you won’t be able to officially become Lord Potter until you are of age, which is 17 in the Wizarding World.”

“Thanks for the explanation,” Harry replied, smiling at Draco. The boy smiled back at him, but it wasn’t what Harry would describe as a warm smile. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a fake smile, though.

Harry wondered what the order in which the others had introduced themselves to him meant. They had definitely not been in order of seating. He had a feeling they had been in some kind of social order, but he wasn’t entirely sure how that order had been decided upon. Being a Heir or not seemed to have played into it, but there had also seemed to be something about the families themselves, because Blaise was an Heir, but he had introduced himself after Millicent, who wasn’t an Heir.

“Did you hear about the Break In in Gringotts?” one of the older students asked loudly, clearly trying to catch the attention of the other students around him, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. Harry thought he had told them he was a third year a bit earlier, but he couldn’t remember his name.

“Someone broke into Gringotts? How?” Daphne asked. “That place is warded almost as much as Hogwarts is. Possible even more.”

“That’s the strange thing,” the boy continued. “Nobody knows who it was, they just passed right through all Gringotts security measures. But the interesting part was that nothing was stolen. The vault they broke into was emptied earlier that day. Or at least, that’s what the goblins are saying. It could be that they don’t want to admit anyone has actually stolen anything from them of course.”

“So does that mean our vaults are no longer safe?” Draco asked. “Because if there’s a possibility that someone is breaking into vaults, we might have to transfer our money and valuables to another bank.”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. They mentioned something about changing their wards and protections now that this happened, so I guess they know how the person or persons got through. I don’t think they will let it happen again.”

“So, how do you know all this?” Pansy asked. “Seeing as no one else has mentioned any of this.”

“My father has connections inside Gringotts,” the boy replied, smirking. “He told me just before I got on the train. Said it would probably be in The Evening Prophet today, or otherwise The Daily Prophet tomorrow.”

“Well, we’ll see soon enough if you’re telling the truth then,” Pansy replied.

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Severus - no, it was Professor Snape now, Harry remembered himself - was talking to a teacher with an absurd purple turban.

Severus - Professor Snape - looked past the other teacher and straight into Harry’s eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.

“What is it?” Tracey asked.

“N-nothing.”

The pain was gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling that somehow the pain was caused by Professor Snape looking at him.

Harry watched him for a while, but he didn’t look at him again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the red-headed twins at the Gryffindor table.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

“Quidditch trials will be held iin the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

“He’s not serious, is he?” he muttered to no one in particular.

“Who knows,” Draco replied. “Like I said, he’s mad.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed. Professor Snape didn’t even pretend to smile.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot,

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.”

Everyone finished the song at different times. At last, only the twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”


	6. Welcome to Slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not J.K. Rowling. Not beta'd.
> 
> Since this story reached a thousand hits earlier this week - it's now already passed 1100 - I decided to do an early update to celebrate with you. There will also be a regular Sunday update, so that's two chapters in one week. :)  
> Thank you very much for everyone who has read, subscribed, given kudos and/or comments. I'm really grateful for every single one of you!

Harry was awoken by three sharp knocks on the dormitory door. “Slytherin Meeting in twenty minutes. Make sure you’re dressed and ready, we’ll be leaving for breakfast after.”

Harry was immediately awake, conditioned as he was by years of living with the Dursleys. He grabbed his glasses from his bedside table and looked around. He hadn’t really looked at his dormitory last night, tired as he was from the long day. The others weren’t all that different. All of them had pretty much just stumbled to their beds and fallen asleep the moment their heads touched their pillows.

Six ancient four-posters were spread out over the room, all with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. They were still in pristine condition though, the dark wood still shiny. Magic definitely had it’s perks.

Harry was glad he had gotten used to a normal bed at Severus’ home, because he didn’t think he would have quite been able to suddenly change from the old mattress at the Dursleys’, in a cupboard in which he could barely stretch himself to his full length, to a bed as incredible as the one he was currently sitting on now.

Harry went over to the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower. He was followed shortly after by Blaise, but the others didn’t seem to make much effort to get out of bed yet.

Harry was brushing his teeth when Draco walked in, still bleary eyed and his hair a complete mess, much more like Harry’s than how it had looked the day before. He mumbled something that Harry thought was supposed to be a ‘good morning’ before entering a shower stall.

Harry looked over to Blaise at the sink next to him and they both grinned. Clearly, Draco was not much of a morning person.

Back in the dormitory, Harry rummaged through his trunk in search of some clothes, while Blaise decided to kick the others out of bed, seeing as they were now coming close to the end of those twenty minutes. It took some effort, but finally Vincent, Gregory and Theodore were out of bed and headed towards the bathroom.

Harry smoothed down the sheets on his bed, before sitting down to wait till the others were done. On the bed on Harry’s right, Blaise did the same.

“Hey Blaise, can I ask you something?”

Blaise turned to look at him. “Sure, what is it?”

“I was wondering, how do you all know each other? I mean, obviously you would know some people, but pretty much everyone of us Slytherins seems a bit much.”

Blaise shrugged. “Our families tend to run in the same circles. Especially the really old ones, like the Malfoys and Greengrasses for example. Most of us pretty much grew up together.”

Harry felt his heart sink. This was going to be like primary school all over again. If they truly had know each other all their lives, there was no way he was going to be able to fit in. Especially not when he had grown up a totally different way, with no understanding of the Wizarding World or their customs.

Harry’s hands clenched into fists. He would be an outsider again, the one that didn’t fit in, no matter how much he tried. He wondered if Slytherin had been the best choice in the end. Maybe another House would have been better after all. At least they didn’t seem to all know each other already, giving him more of a chance to finally find some friends.

“Don’t worry,” Blaise said, clearly noticing Harry’s discomfort. “You’re a Slytherin, or you wouldn’t be here. You’re one of us now, even if you didn’t grew up with us.”

Harry’s unease and anger quickly flooded away again. He was being stupid. He had not even been here for a day. Of course he wouldn’t entirely feel like he fit in that soon. He just needed some time to get to know them, and they him.

“Thanks Blaise,” Harry said, smiling at him. The boy seemed nice enough. Maybe making a friends wouldn’t be that difficult after all.

“No problem,” Blaise answered. “And it’s not like that with everyone in Slytherin, either, by the way. Our year just happens to consist mostly of the high pureblood families. I mean, we have four Heirs to pureblood families, and five children to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! That’s not something that happens every year, I can tell you that.”

“Sacred Twenty-Eight?” Harry asked, frowning. He understood what Heir meant easily enough, and he could imagine being the Heir to a pureblood family would mean quite a lot in the wizarding world. But in the - admittedly few - books on the wizarding world he had read at Severus’, he had never read any reference to something called the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

“It’s a bit of an unofficial name,” Blaise explained. “It refers to the tenty-eight pureblood families who have always, as far back as we can know about, have been witches and wizards. No muggle blood introduced into the family line. These twenty-eight families are the ones that may call themselves ‘Most Ancient and Noble’.

“We have quite a few at Hogwarts this year, actually. From Slytherin, those are Malfoy, Nott, Greengrass, Parkinson and Bulstrode. Ravenclaw doesn’t have any this year, but Hufflepuff got Macmillan, I believe he’s the Heir as well, don’t think he has any siblings. Gryffindor got Longbottom, also an Heir. And Weasley, technically.”

“What do you mean, technically?”

“The Weasleys deplore their status as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, they don’t want much to do with most of the other families. So even though they technically are one of them, and they have the right to the title and everything, they never use it. They turned on the old ways, so they’re considered blood traitors.”

Blaise then turned towards the bathroom. “Hurry up, will you? If you all take much longer they’ll start without us!”

“Shut it, Zabini!” one of them shouted back. “My perfect appearance doesn’t come easy, you know. It takes time!”

“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have stayed in bed that long, Malfoy!” Blaise countered.

At that, Draco stormed out of the bathroom, towards Blaise. “I told you to shut it, Zabini!”

“I got you out of that bathroom, didn’t I?” Blaise replied, grinning. “You look fine. Now hurry up and throw on some clothes, will you.”

Draco glared at Blaise for a moment before stomping over towards his own bed on the other side of Harry’s. He didn’t seem to upset though, so Harry figured they were probably just messing with each other more than actually fighting. He wondered if he would ever be able to do the same, to truly fit in with them. Blaise had told him he was one of them now, but just being a Slytherin wasn’t the same as being part of a group that had known each other since as long as they could remember.

Not long after the others emerged from the bathroom as well, and they were soon ready to leave for the meeting in the common room.

 

***

 

The six of them walked out into the Common Room together, and were quickly guided to the front by one of the older boys. Harry did not recognise him, but then again he hadn’t really paid attention to anyone that wasn’t a first year yesterday.

The first year girls were already seated on the two couches, so Harry and the other boys seated themselves in the armchairs, or on the floor in front of them. Harry ended up leaning against the front of the couch between Tracey and Millicent.

In front of the fireplace stood a broad shouldered dark haired boy next to a blond haired girl, both with a prefect badge pinned to their robes.

“I think we’re all here now, right?” the girl asked, looking around. “Can everyone hear us?”

There was some affirmative mumbling, and the girl smiled. “Great! Then we will now start our first official Slytherin Meeting of the year. This one’s always a bit different from the normal meetings, but that’s because it’s more of a welcome speech than a real meeting. So to all of our first years, congratulations, and welcome to Slytherin. To everyone else, welcome back. I know you will all pretty much know what we’re going to say already, but thank you for waking up so early for us. We normally try to do this one after the Welcome Feast, but we didn’t think most of you were awake enough yesterday to be able to remember what we would be saying.”

Harry chuckled at that. He was sure he would have fallen asleep the moment he had sat down, not hearing a word anyone would be saying. And from what he could remember from yesterday, most of the others from his dormitory would have done the same.

“My name is Marley Fairweather by the way, and I’m one of the 7th year prefects. And this is Aidan Bulstrode, my fellow 7th year prefect.”

Harry wondered if this Aidan was one of Millicents older brothers, or if he maybe was a cousin or something. He wasn’t quite sure how big wizarding families usually were, and how likely it was for multiple cousins from the same family to be at Hogwarts at the same time.

“Like Marley said,” Aidan continued, “we’re your 7th year prefects. There are two prefects from 5th, 6th and 7th year each. We’ll introduce you to the others in a moment.

“Before we all head of to breakfast, we will be explaining a few things about Slytherin. These are mainly for you first years, but the others are all here to show we, as Slytherin House, are united. You needed to get up early, so the rest of us got up early too. And there will be some announcements that are important for everyone at the end.

“Now, there are a few things you should know - and a few you should forget. You might have heard rumours about Slytherin House - that we’re all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and other such rubbish. I’m not denying that we’ve produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three houses - they just don’t like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but there are a great many half-bloods in Slytherin as well. Your family certainly can be of some influence here, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only thing that counts.

“But that’s enough about what we’re not. Let’s talk about what we are, which is quite frankly the best House here at Hogwarts. We play to win, because we care about the honour and traditions of Slytherin. And we know that sometimes, you need to make some difficult decisions to do that. That doesn’t mean we cheat, it just means we know how to bend the rules a bit. We know what we want, and we’ll do everything in our power to get it. And in terms of the House Cup, that means we have been unbeaten for the past xx years.”

A mild applause started after that statement, and Harry soon joined in.

“Here in Slytherin we care about respect,” Marley continued when the applause had died out again. “That means we expect you to respect your fellow Slytherins. But it also means we get respect from the other Houses. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Drop a few hints about having access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like picking on you. And if they do? Well, you have the entirety of Slytherin House behind you.”

Harry forgot his earlier doubts about whether or not Slytherin had been the best choice for him. He began to like Slytherin more and more. He had been the target of Dudley and his friends almost every day, and he was certainly looking forward to going to school and following classes without being bothered by anyone.

“That said, we’re not bad people,” Aidan continued. “Like Marley said, we look after our own. Go after one Slytherin, and you will have to deal with all of us. We Slytherins are like brothers and sisters. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you’ll be glad you’ve got your fellow Snakes on your side as you move around the school. As far as we’re concerned, once you’ve become a Snake, you’re one of ours - one of the elite.

“Because that’s what a Slytherin is chosen for. The seeds of greatness. You’ve been chosen by this house because you’ve got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. I admit, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special, but just keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there’s something great about them, even though that might not be so clear at first glance.

“And never, and I mean never, take any of the problems you might have with a fellow Slytherin outside of this common room. There is enough animosity from the other Houses against us already, we cannot afford to show any weakness. Slytherin will always present a united front. So even if you are currently having a bit of a fall-out with another Snake, if you see them being the target of anyone from another House, you will forget about your personal problems and help them out. Because when we show that we are there for each other, that we are united, we are less likely to be targeted by anyone. After all, they might have the courage to take on one of us, but taking on all of us is a whole other story. Especially if they know what’s good for them.”

“So now for some general announcements,” Marley said, taking over from Aidan again. “Our Head of House is Professor Snape, who is also the Potions Master here at Hogwarts. He is one of the best, so you should feel very fortunate that you are able to be taught by him. His office is down the hall, we’ll show you first years where the entrance is after dinner tonight. This year, Professor Snape will hold office hours on Tuesday and Thursday between four and five, as well as Wednesday evening between seven-thirty and nine. However, in general it would be preferred if you would come to one of us prefects before going to him. Professor Snape is a very busy man, and we do not want to bother him with things that could easily be solved by one of us.

“Which brings us to the 5th and 6th year prefects. If you could please come forward?”

Two boys and two girls walked over to Marley and Aidan, amongst them the girl who had introduced herself as Gemma Travers yesterday during the Welcome Feast. Gemma turned out to be a 5th year prefect, together with Keegan Kettlewell. The 6th year prefects introduced themselves as Boyd Ridgeway and Vi Bradford.

“You are more than welcome to come to any of us with any questions or concerns you may have,” Marley continued, while the four prefects walked back to their former places. “And of course you are free to ask questions to any other Slytherin as well. We’re all more than happy to help a fellow Snake out.”

“This also goes for classes and homework,” Aidan said. “We encourage you all to try and work together, but if you aren’t able to figure something out yourselves, there are a few of us who are willing to help you out with specific subjects. So for any fourth years and older, if you are willing to help out in certain subjects, we’ve posted the list on the noticeboard. Just sign your name after the subject, as well as your year. Anyone who wants help can then approach you directly, no need to go through us.

“Oh, and the password can be found on the noticeboard as well. It changes every fortnight, so make sure to check it. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room tell them our password. No outsider has entered here for more than seven centuries, except for special circumstances.”

“I think that’s all,” Marley said. “Does anyone have any questions?”

When nobody spoke up, she reached into a bag next to her and pulled out a few stacks of paper. “I’ve picked up the schedules from Professor Snape yesterday, if you could come pick them up and pass them out to your own year, we can go leave for breakfast.”

Draco immediately stood up and walked over to Marley, and he was soon followed by a couple of older boys as well. They quickly passed the schedules out to the other Slytherins, and all together they left for breakfast.

 

***

 

When Harry, Tracey and Blaise walked into the greenhouse, most seats were already filled. They had gotten held up a bit by students doubling back, trying to get a good look at Harry. It had unnerved him a bit, but Tracey and Blaise had kept him distracted with conversation the entire time, so that he had almost forgotten the fact that people were staring at him.

After looking around Harry noticed Hermione was still sitting on her own with an empty spot next to her, so he decided to sit down with her, leaving Blaise and Tracey to take the double table at the other end of the classroom.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Harry asked, when he arrived at Hermione’s table.

She looked up from where she was reading her book, and Harry saw she was surprised to see him standing there.

“Oh, yes, I mean, no, sit down,” she said, smiling up at him.

Harry sat himself down and began rummaging through his bag, searching for the quills and ink he had hastily thrown into his bag that morning.

A moment later a short, plump woman walked into the greenhouse. The first thing Harry noticed was that her robes were not the usual black, but a deep green that reminded him of nature. Very fitting robes for someone teaching about plants.

“Good morning class,” the woman started. “My name is professor Sprout, and I will be your Herbology professor. I’m also the Head of Hufflepuff House. However, this will have no effect on any of you, seeing as this is a shared Ravenclaw-Slytherin class.

“I do expect you all to do your very best in this class. However, knowing Ravenclaw’s thirst for knowledge, and Slytherin’s pride and ambition, I have no doubt you will do very fine.

Harry noticed he immediately seemed to like the professor. She didn’t seem too intimidating, just a regular woman, and seemed to be pretty laid back and not at all involved with House judgement. But maybe that was just a necessity for teaching at Hogwarts. After all, teachers who were prejudiced were not going to be the best teachers for the students, were they?

“I know you are probably all dying to actually get some magic done, now that you’re finally at Hogwarts, but I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. Herbology is more of a hands-on class and doesn’t use all that much spells. The magic part of our lessons is mostly is in the plants themselves.”

The Professor explained about some different kinds of magical plants that they would be working with that year, before giving them the simple task of transferring some plants into new and slightly bigger pots. She told them they were not required to work in silence, and soon small conversations started between table partners.

“So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?” Harry asked, feeling the need to start a conversation as well, but not really knowing how else to start.

“It’s really interesting,” Hermione replied, beaming. “I mean, it’s obvious the whole castle is build around magic. The moving staircases, the moving and talking portraits, the ghosts. It’s really amazing. And the Ravenclaw tower is really great as well. Do you know that we do not only have a password to get in, but that you need to solve a riddle as well? I think it’s a really interesting way to keep our minds sharp.”

Harry was glad the Slytherin common room only needed a password to enter, and they weren’t expected to solve any riddles on top of that. But Hermione seemed to be happy about it, so he decided not to comment on it.

“Oh, do you remember those books I mentioned on the train?” Hermione asked.

“The ones that mentioned me?”

Hermione nodded. “I took a couple of them with me to Hogwarts, they’re in my trunk. You could borrow them if you want?”

Harry thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, he was interested in knowing what the wizarding world thought about him, and what was known about him. On the other hand, he wasn’t so sure he was going to like reading about himself in some sort of history book. Eventually, he decided to give it a try. Knowing what other people knew, or thought they knew, about him could only be in his own advantage.

“I’ll take you up on that, if you don’t mind,” he answered, sending Hermione a grateful smile.

They both continued focusing on their plants after that, carefully transferring them from one pot to the other and adding the extra earth and water.

“Oh, by the way, do you know if there is anyone by the name of James in our year?” Hermione suddenly asked a few moments later. “I didn’t see him at the opening feast, but I met him in Diagon Alley when I was shopping for my school supplies, and I am pretty sure he mentioned going to Hogwarts.”

Harry inwardly groaned. Of course she had remembered her talk with ‘James’. Severus had been right, it had been stupid to talk to someone while he was still disguised.

“Ehm, I don’t think there’s anyone named James,” he replied. “I mean, I can’t remember any James being Sorted.”

Luckily, he was spared from more questions when Professor Sprout continued with another small lecture on the particular properties of the plants in front of them.

Harry sincerely hoped Hermione would forget about ‘James’, before she tried digging too deep in things she shouldn’t know about. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem like the type to just forget something like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love to receive comments and hear what you all think of the story so far.


	7. Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not J.K. Rowling. Not beta'd.
> 
> I've had a very busy weekend, and totally forgot to post a new chapter yesterday. Sorry about that! I'll make it up to you guys by once again posting two chapters this week instead of one.

During breakfast on Friday, Harry realising the week was already almost over. It had been simultaneously easier and harder than he had expected, but so far he enjoyed his classes.

“Finally, Potions,” he heard Draco say from a bit farther down the table. “And with those foolish Gryffindors no less. Time to show them they are not everyone’s favourites.”

Harry smiled. He was looking forwards to Potions. He hadn’t really seen Severus - it was Professor Snape now, he kept reminding himself - since he had dropped him of at King’s Cross Station earlier that week. Of course he had seen him in the Great Hall, but he hadn’t spoken to the man. He hoped he would get a chance to thank the man once more for bringing him to Hogwarts and introducing him to the Wizarding World.

“You’re happy today,” Tracey said, from across the table. “Any particular reason?”

“Just happy we’re finally going to have a Potions class,” Harry said, picking another piece of toast from the plate in the middle of the table. He carefully buttered it before looking back up.

“I mean, it seems to be an interesting subject, from what I read.”

“Potions is the best subject,” Draco replied, turning towards him and Tracey. “And Severus is by far the best teacher this school has to offer.”

“You know him?” Harry asked, noticing how Draco used his first name.

“Of course,” Draco replied, smiling smugly. “He is my godfather.”

“You’re just hoping to get special treatment,” Daphne teased Draco.

Harry grinned, but Draco just glared at her. “I do not need special treatment, Greengrass.”

“Really, Draco, still with the last name? We’re all Slytherins here, you know, we’re even in the same year. You really are allowed to start using my first name,” Daphne said.

“It’s not my fault I’m the only one who has any knowledge about manners, Greengrass,” Draco sneered.

“Whatever,” Harry said, not fancying another discussion between Draco and Daphne, as the last one had lasted for more than an hour during dinner yesterday. They weren’t exactly mean-spirited, but that didn’t make them any more pleasant to listen to for long amounts of time. “I’m going, anyone coming with me?”

Tracey and Blaise immediately stood up, followed shortly by Daphne. Gathering their bags, the four of them walked out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons, where the Potions classroom was located.

“Hey, Daphne, you’ve known Draco for a while, haven’t you?” Harry asked when they were halfway to the dungeons.

Daphne nodded. “We’re both Heirs to powerful pureblood families. We’ve known each other since we were small children.”

“I was just wondering if he was always this way.”

“You mean if he was always this stuck-up?” Daphne asked. “Not really. Although he was always a bit arrogant, but that’s not unusual for the pureblood families. I mean, we all know we’re going to be important later in life, we’re sort of raised that way. So it’s not even so much arrogance as, well, knowing our place in society, I guess. But when he grew up, it became worse. I think he’s trying to copy his father.”

“But you’re just as pureblood as him,” Tracey said. “And you aren’t acting that foolish.”

Daphne shrugged. “The Greengrass family doesn’t really care about the whole pureblood thing. Or well, we care about it of course, and we’re proud to be one of the so-called Sacred Twenty-Eight, but it’s different. We don’t necessarily think we’re better than other families because of it.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t,” Harry said, grinning. “It’s nice to know there are at least some other Slytherins who are normal.”

Daphne shook her head, but grinned. “We’re all normal. Some are just a bit better at hiding that fact.”

 

They four of them were the first to arrive at the Potions Classroom. They contemplated waiting for the others, but the door was open, so they decided they might as well go in and take a seat.

“Blaise, you want to pair up for Potions?” Tracey asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Blaise answered. “You don’t mind do you, Potter?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “How many times do I need to tell you guys that you can all just call me Harry? What Daphne told Draco is also true for the rest of you, you know. Really, I do not want to be addressed by my last name. And no, of course I don’t mind if you two pair up.”

“You sure?” Tracey asked. “I mean, we sit together practically every class already. If you wanted to sit with one of us I’m sure one of us could find someone else to sit with.”

Harry smiled. “It’s fine, really. It’s nice getting to work with different people actually.”

“Okay. Just, if you would want to sit with one of us sometimes, just say so okay?” Tracey said. “We wouldn’t want to make you feel like you aren’t part of our group or anything.”

“Tracey, it’s fine,” Harry chuckled, seating himself in one of the front row seats. “You want to pair up, Daphne?”

Daphne bit her lower lip, looking away from Harry. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I already promised Pansy to be her partner in Potions.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to break a promise,” he answered, smiling at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Tracey and Blaise sat down on the table to Harry’s right, while Daphne took the table to Harry’s left.

Slowly, the other students trickled in, and the classroom started to fill up. Harry noticed quite a few of the Gryffindors were shivering, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread out on his face. They clearly weren’t used to the slightly cold atmosphere of the dungeons. It had taken them some time to get used to it too, but now they didn’t even really notice the temperature anymore.

The last to arrive was Draco, flanked by Vince and Greg. Harry couldn’t help but think of Dudley and his gang, the way the two bigger boys walked with Draco as some sort of bodyguards. Draco waved the two boys away to pair up with each other, and sat down next to Harry.

“Well, I do hope you’re at least somewhat decent at Potions, Potter, since I do care about my grades,” he said. “Then again, I’m sure I will be able to get us through this myself if I have to.”

Harry immediately regretted the fact that he was now paired with Draco, and hoped the boy would not keep up this arrogant behaviour. After all, he didn’t even know anything about Harry’s skill in Potions yet, there really was no need to start being nasty this soon.

He decided to ignore him for now, and looked around the classroom. The Slytherins were all on one side of the room, while the Gryffindors were on the other. Of course students from the same house were often seated together, but the classrooms usually weren’t as perfectly split down the middle as this one. Then again, Slytherins and Gryffindors apparently had a bigger problem with each other than the other houses, which was further proven by some nasty glares the two sides of the classroom were currently giving each other. Harry decided he didn’t really care to be mad at people he didn’t even knew yet, especially since he knew Neville was a Gryffindor, and the boy had seemed nice enough on the train. He turned his attention back to his book, and started rereading the first chapter.

“Hey Potter, how does it feel, betraying your parents?”

Harry turned around to see who had said that, and saw a redheaded boy looking very proud of himself, some Gryffindors laughing or grinning, while others just looked a bit wary.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I asked how it feels to betray your parents,” the boy repeated.

“I don’t think Potter is deaf, Weasley,” Draco drawled next to Harry.

“Thanks for the help, Draco, but I think I can handle this,” Harry said softly, turning around to Draco and smile at him. He then turned back to the redhead.

“Now, you’re Ronald Weasley, right?” Harry asked, trying to remember the names he had heard at the Sorting Ceremony. “So, Ronald, care to explain why you think I’m betraying my parents?”

“Because you’ve become a Slytherin of course!” the boy replied, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “You-Know-Who and his Dead Eaters were Slytherins. You’re siding with your parents’ killers.”

Harry pulled his wand from his pocket, pointing it at the Gryffindor. He could take the boy being nasty towards him - he had gotten plenty of experience with that from Dudley and his friends - but he wasn’t going to let him talk like that about his fellow Slytherins.

He saw from the corner of his eyes that several of them had raised their wand as well. Some of the Gryffindors hastily pulled theirs. Of course, Harry realised fully well that with their current ability the wands were pretty useless, but it was the image that counted.

“I doubt my parents were killed by infants,” Harry said, his tone carefully kept calm.

“But several of their parents are known to have been Death Eaters,” another Gryffindor said, although his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“If they are known Death Eaters, then why aren’t they in Azkaban?” Theo replied, sneering.

Harry turned towards him, shaking his head, signalling to the rest of his housemates to keep out of this one. He would be able to deal with one person himself, but if more Slytherins were going to start joining in, the whole situation might get out of hand. And he really did want to try and get this over with before Severus arrived.

“You know, I’ve been told Voldemort-” he heard several people gasp at that “started the war because of prejudice. I don’t see how your prejudice against Slytherins is any different.”

Harry noticed Neville turned to look away at that. The others, unfortunately, did not seem to realise what he was trying to tell him, and the few that had seemed wary at first were now looking angry as well.

Harry shook his head. “I very well know what happened to my parents. I also realise that nobody that is going to school with me had anything to do with that. So to answer your question, Weasley, I feel very proud of the House I’ve been sorted into, and do not think I am betraying my parents in any way. It shows I have the ambition to give their sacrifice meaning and make something of myself. But then again, you would know all about betrayal, wouldn’t you? Blood traitors as your family are.”

Weasleys eyes widened in obvious surprise, and so did the eyes of most of the other Gryffindors. Neville looked up at Harry in shock. Out of the corners of his eyes Harry saw that Tracey and Blaise were also staring at him. Had he said something wrong? But it was Blaise who had told him earlier that week that the Weasleys were blood traitors, surely he hadn’t misunderstood that, right?

At that moment Severus walked into the classroom, his robes billowing around his feet, and the door closing behind him.

“Does anybody care to tell me what is going on here?” he asked, his voice low.

“Nothing, Se- Professor,” Harry replied calmly, putting his wand back in his pocket and sitting down. “We were just finished with a friendly chat.”

The other Slytherins quickly followed Harry’s example and put their wands away as well.

“Watch your tone, Mr Potter,” Severus replied, glaring at him. “You may be a celebrity around here, but that does not mean I will give you any special treatment.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Harry replied. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Mr Weasley, why are you still pointing a wand at my students?” Severus asked.

“Your difficult to figure out, you know that, Potter?” Draco whispered.

“Now then, after this interesting start, let’s move on to Potions. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of ptoionmaking,” Severus began, his voice dropping to barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Severus had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe that this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper dead - if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this little speech. Some of the Gryffindors exchanged looks and uneasy glances. Harry and Draco both shifted a little more to the front of their seats. Severus’ class was already proving to be interesting.

“Mr Potter,” Severus said suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry racked his brain, trying to remember where he had read about those particular ingredients. He was sure it wasn’t in ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’, but he knew he had read it in one of the other books Severus had borrowed him. Was he trying to figure out if he had actually read them?

“I think it’s a sleeping potion, sir,” Harry answered. “Although I’m afraid I can’t remember the name.”

“Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat. Although I suppose you would have at least one in the storage cupboard.”

Next to him, Draco grinned. Severus, however, didn’t seem to be amused by Harry’s answer.

“What’s the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Harry frowned. Why was he asking him these questions? They weren’t first year material.

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Correct on all three, Mr Potter. Five points to Slytherin. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Meanwhile, with a flick of his wand Severus put the instructions for a simple potion to cure boils on the blackboard.

“Instructions are on the board. You can retrieve the ingredients from the cupboard on your right. You have exactly 60 minutes.”

‘I’ll get the ingredients,” Draco said, and stood up.

Harry flipped through his book once more, searching for the Boiling Cure Potion. He was pretty sure there was something mentioned in the text about the influence of the heat on the potion, and there was nothing on that written with Severus’ instructions. He supposed it might be a sort of test of him to see who had actually read ahead already.

When he had found the passage he was looking for, he smiled. The text indeed mentioned that the potion would be better if the heat was turned off when the xx was added.

Harry looked around to see if there were any others who had thought to look up the potion in their book, and saw no opened books. Of course, maybe there were some that had remembered and didn’t need the book itself, but he doubted it.

Draco walked back to their table, caught his eye, then caught side of the book in front of Harry, and smirked. Harry grinned back and decided to give the boy a chance. He might not be too bad, if what Daphne had said earlier was true. Just a bit arrogant and full of himself. Then again, that almost seemed to be a bit of a Slytherin problem in general. Maybe if he got to know him better, he would be able to ignore it.

“Well, maybe you will be decent at Potions after all, Potter,” he drawled.

“Daphne is right, you know,” Harry said. “You’re allowed to call people by their first names. Really, I would appreciate it if you could just call me Harry.”

Draco shrugged. “It’s a habit. I’ve always called the others by their last names, it’s a bit hard to suddenly switch to first names.”

Harry shook his heads. Really, what child would call friends by their last name.

Draco carefully sorted the ingredients on their table, and they both got to work. They followed the instructions Severus had written carefully, including the small change in heat the book had mentioned. Severus just praised them on the way they had stewed their horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

On the other side of the room, Neville had managed to melt his and Finnigan’s cauldron into a twisted blog, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Severus, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Severus spat at Finnigan. The two of them hastily left the classroom, and a few moments later the class had calmed down enough to continue their potions.

At the end of the hour, Severus started walking around, inspecting everyone’s potions. He had something to criticise about almost all potions, although Harry realised he seemed to have more problems with those of the Gryffindors than those of Slytherin.

“Perfect potion, Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter. Another 5 points to Slytherin,” Severus said when finally stopping at their desk. “Not that I expected anything less.”

“Thank you sir,” Draco replied, smirking. “I’ve learned from the best.”

Harry saw the Gryffindors glaring at them, but he couldn’t be bothered. Severus was just giving points for a correct potion, it wasn’t his fault none of the Gryffindors had opened a book beforehand and managed to brew a correct one. He realised of course that he and Draco, if Severus really was his godfather, might have gotten a bit of an advantage, but found that he deserved one, seeing as there were also a lot of students that were raised in the Wizarding World, giving them an inherent advantage on the students who were not.

“Class dismissed,” Severus said, waving his wand to empty the cauldrons. “And I do expect better results next week.”

The students gathered their bags and walked away, the Slytherins mostly smiling, the Gryffindors mostly glaring.

“Mr Potter, stay a moment.”

Harry looked back at Severus, before saying a quick goodbye to the others, telling them he would catch up with them at lunch, and walked back inside. He waited until the rest of the students were all gone from the classroom.

“Why did you act like that?” Harry asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I do not know what you are talking about, Mr Potter.”

“You know I have read all the potions books you borrowed me, why were you asking questions that aren’t even covered in our usual book? Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

“Watch your tone, Mr Potter,” Severus said. “I am a Professor at this school, and you will treat me as such.”

Harry clenched and unclenched his hands. Apparently, the man he had met over the summer was no longer the one that stood before him now. He had hoped the man would be someone he could confide in during the schoolyear, would stay the one he could go to if he needed something. Clearly, he had been wrong. The man had agreed to let him stay for the month as a means to repay his mother, for whatever reason, and he shouldn’t expect anything from him now. He had known it had only been for a month, that it had not been because of him but because of his mother, but it still stung.

“What was going on in here when I walked in?” Severus asked.

“I handled it,” Harry said. “It was nothing.”

“I do not think students with raised wands are nothing,” Severus said.

“It’s not like we know anything that is actually useful.”

“That is not the point, Mr Potter,” Severus said, his tone getting more lower, something Harry knew from Uncle Vernon usually meant trouble. “I asked what was going on.”

“Weasley said I was betraying my parents,” Harry said, forcing himself to get the words out, feeling himself get angry again.

“Any reason why Mr Weasley felt you were?” Severus asked, his face impassive.

Harry stared at the man, not believing he was actually asking him that question.

“Because he’s a Gryffindor, which my parents were as well?” Harry replied sarcastically. “And I am a Slytherin.”

“Then why become a Slytherin, if you believe you are betraying your parents by that?” Severus asked.

“I don’t!” Harry forced himself to calm down again. “We don’t choose, we get sorted. I never said I believed I am betraying my parents, only that Weasley said so.”

“The Houses are where we belong, and so where we want to be,” Severus said, his voice back to normal again. “So in a way, we always choose the House we end up in ourselves. The Sorting Hat is just there to help us figure out where we want to be. So I am asking, why did you want to become a Slytherin.”

Harry knew that Severus was part of the reason that he had become a Slytherin. The man had rescued him from the Dursleys, family that did not deserve to be called that, and was one of the first people to show him kindness. Especially the first one from the Wizarding World that he had encountered. And the subsequent act of giving him a place to stay for the rest of the summer had left an impression on him. He had wanted to become like him, a great wizard, an accomplished man, known in the Wizarding World for what he could do. Especially after he had learned people in the Wizarding World worshipped him because of his name, he had wanted to show them he could actually do something, was actually worth being known for something he could do instead of a name. Severus had awakened in him the ambition to become the best version of himself he could be.

He realised all of this, had known for a while, but he wasn’t sure if he could tell him now. He was grateful to the man, had even become sort of attached, he now realised, because there certainly hadn’t been any other person for him to feel connected to, and he couldn’t deal with the possible rejection that might come if he told him. After ten years living with the Dursleys, he didn’t think he could bear being rejected again. And after the man had shown they were just a teacher and a student, casual acquaintances through Hogwarts, and no longer two people who lived together, he feared the man would not understand why he had made so profound an impression on him.

“It’s complicated,” Harry started. “Slytherin values ambition and cunning, wanting to get somewhere and doing what you can to make it. The whole Wizarding World sees me as some kind of hero for what happened to me when I was barely more than a baby, something I have no memory of and can hardly be expected to have a real hand in. I do not want them to know me for that, to see me as a hero for something I did not do. I want them to see me as me, to recognise me for who I really am and for what I can do. Slytherin, with others who are just as ambitious to make it, I hope will be the place where I can figure out who I am and what I can do, as well as get the help to get me there. Someday, I want the Wizarding World to look at me and no longer see The-Boy-Who-Lived, but me.”

Harry bit his lip, anxious that his explanation might sound childish, but Severus made no sign of finding it amusing. Then again, the man didn’t really show much emotion anyway.

“Then you have chosen wisely, Mr Potter,” Severus said. “In Slytherin, you will not be treated as a celebrity because of your name, seeing as almost every single one of my Snakes is well-known or has a well-known family for one reason or another. You can be a normal students, same as your House mates, and I trust you will be a fine wizard once you graduate.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry answered, grateful that Severus believed he had made a right choice. There was just one thing niggling at his mind, a question to which he wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer. Earlier in class he had told quite forcefully he was not betraying his parents by becoming a Slytherin, that a House did not define a person, and he truly believed that. But he also knew not everyone thought the same way.

“Professor, may I ask you something?”

“Yes, you may,” Severus replied.

“Like I said, I do not feel like I am betraying my parents,” Harry said. “But I was wondering, do you think they would feel the same way?”

“It is difficult to know what another would think, Mr Potter,” Severus replied, his voice a little softer than before. “But from what I knew of your mother, I know she did not care for Houses too much. As for your father, it’s a bit more difficult, I’m afraid.”

Harry hung his head, willing the sudden stinging in his eyes to stop. There was no reason to cry over the opinion of a man he had never even known. But still, that man was his father, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like he should make him proud. Especially since he had died for him.

“Your father did not have the best relationship with Slytherins, I admit,” Severus continued. “But I do believe he would be proud of his son, no matter what House he would eventually end up in.

“Show the world Slytherin is not equal to evil, Mr Potter. That it is not always black and white. Show them we can be courageous and do the right thing. And when you do, it is not only your parents who will be proud of you.”

Harry looked up again, and smiled at Severus. “Thank you, Professor. I will.”

The man might want to keep their relationship as strictly student and teacher, but if he stayed the same as he was now, Harry would not mind. He could work with that. As long as he had his support, as long as he knew he would be there to help him if he needed it, even if just as his Head of House, that was alright. As long as he knew there was someone he could go to when he needed help, Harry could live with him not treating him as anything more than just another one of his students.


	8. House Politics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not J.K. Rowling. Not beta'd.
> 
> I promised you guys and update either on Wednesday or Thursday, so here it is. It's 4.30AM in my timezone, but I'm sure that for quite a few of you it's still Thursday, right? I'm afraid I'll not be able to keep up this pace, so from next week on we're back to one chapter a week. I'm sorry, but I'm just really busy with my course load at the moment.

The first Wednesday afternoon in November was an exciting time for the Slytherins. They were going to have their first flying lesson.

Most of them had been looking forward to this since the first day of school. And if the stories the Slytherins were telling each other were to be believed, more than half of them had pretty much grown up on a broom, some of them even going so far as to announce they had been flying since the moment they could stand.

Harry knew that, growing up in magical families, they had ever reason to be able to fly a broom already, but he was pretty sure most of the stories were highly exaggerated at best. The stories had gotten more and more improbable that week, so Harry had decided to just ignore all of them and see how things were going during the actual lesson. Hopefully, they weren’t all such amazing flyers as they said they were, and he wouldn’t be too obvious in not knowing what to do.

“Don’t be nervous,” Tracey said on their way outside. “I’ve never flown before either. And even if all their stories are true, you will at least have me besides you as an inexperienced flyer.”

“And anyway,” Draco said, “we are going to be flying with the Gryffindors. I can assure you most of them probably haven’t even seen a broom before in their life.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks guys. Just promise to tell me if I’m doing something horribly wrong, okay Draco?”

Over the past few weeks, Harry had gotten to know Draco a little better, and he was now able to overlook the occasional arrogant tendencies he seemed to show. He wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they were able to have a normal conversation, and that counted for something, right?

“Of course, Potter,” he answered haughtily. “We have to show those Gryffindors who’re best, don’t we?”

The other Slytherins reacted with approval, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at them. They might not all exactly be friends, or at least not yet, but he definitely felt like one of them, part of their group. His worries slowly became less, until they had almost entirely disappeared once they reached the Gryffindors.

An older looking woman was already waiting, two rows of brooms neatly laid out in the grass, pointing towards each other. As was to be expected, the Gryffindors that had already arrived had all chosen the same row, so the Slytherins spread out over the other. When the last Gryffindor students had arrived a few minutes later, the woman started speaking.

“Good afternoon. My name is Madam Hooch, and I will be teaching you how to fly. You will listen to my instructions carefully, and we will make sure no accidents are going to happen. Is that understood?”

Both the Slytherins and Gryffindors nodded and mumbled their agreement.

“Some of you may already know how to fly a broom” - Harry noticed some of the Slytherins looking quite smug at that, as well as a couple of Gryffindors - “and some may never even have seen a broom before. We will therefore start at the very beginning.” Harry saw some quite a few of the Gryffindors look relieved at that, and it made him feel better. Draco had been right, there were enough Gryffindors with no idea what they were doing as well. Surely he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself.

“We will start at getting the brooms into your hands. Stand at the left of a broom, and raise your right hand above it. Now, if you cast with your left hand, do the opposite and stand on the right of the broom, raising your left hand above it.”

She then paused a few moments, allowing the students the time to position themselves next to their brooms like she had told them.

“You can summon the broom to your hand by clearly stating ‘up’. Now, practice.”

Harry’s broom flew into his hand the moment he said ‘up’, and a grin broke out on his face. He saw a few other brooms doing the same, all of them belonging to a Slytherin. A lot of the brooms were still lying on the grass though.

“Remember to say it clearly, like you would when travelling by floo, and believing the broom will jump into your hand. As you have hopefully learned this past few weeks week, believing in your magic is part of the work.”

The others tried again, and this time more brooms flew up. After a few more moments of students calling ‘up’, everyone had a broom in hand.

“Now swing your leg over the broom and grip it firmly with both hands, making sure you have a good control over it and they can’t slip away. Don’t do anything yet, I will first make sure you are all positioned okay.”

Madam Hooch walked along the line of students, correcting hands here and there. Harry couldn’t help but grin slightly when he noticed her telling Draco he was holding his broom all wrong. He quickly hid his grin when Draco looked his way, though, not wanting to offend him.

Once she had made sure everyone was holding their brooms correctly and would safely be able to fly in that position, she walked back to her earlier spot and continued her explanations.

“Now, once I count to three, I want you to softly kick of the ground, pulling the broom up a bit to gain some height, and hover a few feet above the ground. You can then lower yourself again by pushing the front of your broom down. Make sure to not go to high, so that if anything goes wrong I will be able to reach you from the ground and pull you back. Now, one, two -”

Neville, with a very nervous expression on his face, strongly kicked off the ground before Madam Hooch was even done counting, and immediately shot upwards. He must have believed himself unable to fly, judging from his shocked expression, and seemed quite afraid of the height he had reached in such a short time.

“Mr Longbottom, come down immediately!” Madam Hooch exclaimed, looking up at the frightened boy.

“I don’t know how!” the boy shouted back, all the while still gaining height. Harry noticed he was still pointing the broom slightly upwards, and thus still slowly going upwards, and realised poor Neville would be sliding of his broom with the way he was holding it at the moment.

“Lean forwards,” Harry shouted, but it was already too late. Harry’s predictions came true and Neville slid of the broom, tumbling to the ground. Luckily for him, his coat caught on one of the castles many points, and he got stuck there for a moment, stopping his speed, before falling the last few meters to the ground.

From Harry’s position, close to where Neville landed, he could hear something snap, and by the way Neville was grabbing hold of his wrist, he had just broken it. Harry winced, knowing the feeling of breaking a bone quite well.

“Mr Longbottom, are you okay?” Madam Hooch asked, speeding towards the boy. She carefully took hold of his wrist, which made the boy whimper. “Yes, that’s broken, my boy. Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing.”

She then turned around to the other students. “None of you will leave a foot of the ground when I’m gone, or you will be gone from Hogwarts faster than you can say Quidditch!”

She then walked away with the boy, towards the castle.

“Look what Longbottom dropped,” Draco sneered, walking over towards where Neville had fallen. He picked some sort of glass ball from the ground, holding it up in the air for everyone to see.

“A remembrall. How pathetic.”

“Give that up, Malfoy,” Weasley said from the other side of the field.

“What, you want this, Weasley?” Malfoy asked, taunting the redhead by waving the ball around. He then reached for the broom, mounted it and kicked off the ground.

Harry immediately realised the boy had not lied about being able to fly. His grip on the broom might have been wrong, according to Madam Hooch, but the confidence with which he was now up in the air told of his many flying hours he had seen as a child.

“Give it back, Malfoy!” Weasley shouted, his face slowly turning the same shade as his hair.

“Oh, I think I might leave it somewhere for Longbottom,” Malfoy replied, smirking. “How about somewhere in a tree?”

Harry hadn’t really minded Draco teasing the Gryffindor for a bit, but thought he went too far now.

“Come on Draco, just give it back,” he called.

Draco turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. “You want to give this back to the pathetic Longbottom? How about you come and take it from me then.”

Harry realised most Gryffindors were staring at him. A quick look at the other Slytherins taught him that they too were a bit confused by his behaviour. He realised it might be a bit strange for him to go against Draco to help a Gryffindor, but he couldn’t really let Draco hide Neville’s remembral either. He sighed, and made a decision.

“Come on, we had our fun, not just give it back,” Harry said, trying to get Draco to give the Remembrall back in peace. “There’s no need for us to get in trouble over something like this

“Oh, I forgot,” Draco said, teasing Harry. “You can’t come and get it, can you? You don’t know how to fly.”

Harry swung his leg over his broom, and gripped it tight, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Daphne standing next to him.

“He’s just trying to show his position, Harry. He’s goading[?] you to show he is still above you,” Daphne said, voice just low enough for the Gryffindors to not be able to hear her.

“Yeah, I get that,” Harry replied softly. “But I can’t let him do this. I’ll think of a way to apologise later.”

With that, he kicked off from the ground, hard, hoping he would not fall of his broom. Once he was in the air, however, he realised he had no problem keeping his stability. It felt like he was meant to be in the air.

He looked over towards Draco, who was still holding the Remembrall in his hand, but now definitely looked surprised.

“I think I’m flying pretty well, Draco, don’t you think?” Harry asked, grinning.

“You want this?” Draco asked a moment later, holding the remembral out towards him. “Come and get it.”

Harry didn’t let him tell him that twice, and sped towards him, lowering his body against the broom, instinctively knowing how to move in the air.

Draco clearly hadn’t anticipating him flying towards him with that speed, and Harry saw the slightly panicked expression on his face.

“Catch it, Potter!” Draco exclaimed when Harry came close, and threw the ball high up in the heir.

Harry saw the ball gliding through the air, as if in slow motion, and then went after it. He heard some people below him calling something to him, but he couldn’t hear them through the sound of the wind pushing past him.

He saw the ball falling back towards the ground. Realising the glass ball would shatter if it fell from this height, he pushed himself even flatter against his broom, hoping to get the speed to catch it before it hit the ground.

The ground came towards him faster and faster, and just above it he managed to get a hold of the small glass ball and pull out of his downward motion, managing to get the broom right under him just a few inches above the ground. He made a wide arc around the others, slowly lowering his speed, until he finally stopped between Daphne and Pansy. Draco had apparently landed a bit earlier already, for he was now standing next to Theo.

With a headsplitting grin Harry stepped off of his broom, the Remembrall safely in his hand. He walked over towards the Gryffindor side of the field, his expression slowly changing into a more neutral one, and stopped before the Weasley boy, the one that seemed to be the unofficial leader of their group.

He slowly outstretched his arm towards him, his palm upwards, the Remembrall lying on top of it.

“Please return this to Longbottom,” Harry said.

The boy looked at him a bit wary, and then took the ball from him. It seemed like he was going to say something, but apparently he thought better of it and just looked away, putting the Remembrall in his pocket.

“What were you thinking!” Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall storming out of the castle and towards them. “Where is Madam Hooch?”

“What is going on, Professor McGonagall?” Madam Hooch asked, just coming out of the castle.

“You have students flying without supervision!” Professor McGonagall informed her. She then turned back towards them. “You could have broken your neck, the way you two were flying!”

Harry bit his lip. He hadn’t really thought about it that way, but he now realised what could have happened, especially since he didn’t have any prior experience. But the flying had felt good. Once in the air, he hadn’t had a moment of doubt, he just sort of knew what he had to do. As if he had done it a hundred times before.

Maybe it was a magic thing? The same way as the right wand would immediately sent out brightly coloured sparkles when shopping, without any conscious thought required from the caster?

“What had I told you?” Madam Hooch said, her expression one between concern and anger.

“You two-”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Harry quickly interrupted her, seeing a chance to show Draco he respected the fact that the boy was clearly higher in the social hierarchy of Slytherin. “I-”

“Don’t, Potter,” Draco softly said, stepping up so he stood next to Harry, laying a hand on upper arm.

“I’m trying-”

“I know what you are trying, Potter,” Malfoy cut him off again, a small smirk on his face. “But you aren’t required to do so. I do not mind.”

Harry realised he wasn’t talking about any detention, and smiled back at him. “Thank you, Draco.”

“Gentlemen, if you would stop talking with each other and care to explain to me what in Merlin’s name possesed you to get on a broom while I was away?” Madam Hooch asked.

“I am sorry, Madam Hooch,” Draco said smoothly, giving her an innocent smile. “Longbottom had dropped his Remembrall, and I picked it up, joking around a bit. Potter did not realise I was joking, and took it back from me.”

“And where is Mr Longbottom’s Remembrall now?” Professor McGonagall asked, looking sternly.

“I gave it back to Weasley, Professor,” Harry answered.

Both women turned towards the redheaded boy, who took the Remembrall out of his robe pocket. “Got it right here, Professor.”

“We did not mean to put anyone in any danger, Madam,” Draco continued. “We were both confident enough in our flying skills that nothing would happen.”

“Mr Potter has not had any flying training, Mr Malfoy. He grew up with Muggles. Don’t try that on me,” Professor McGonagall warned him.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow. “I thought nobody knew where he was living?”

Harry, quickly realising what Malfoy was trying to do, picked up where he left off.

“If you saw us, you must have seen how I fly, Professor. No disrespect towards you, of course, but did it look like that was the first time I was on a broom?”

“Well, no, but..” She trailed off.

Harry smiled. “I know how to fly, Professor. It is understandable you did not realise that, but we both knew there was no real danger. We’re sorry for scaring you, however. That was obviously not our intent.”

“That’s all well and good, Mr Potter,” Madam Hooch said, “but that does not [goedpraten] you two taking Mr Longbottom’s Remembrall.”

“We were only fooling around a bit, Madam,” Harry said, bowing his head.

From the corners of his eyes he saw the Gryffindors shifting, until Weasley stepped forwards. “I can attest to that story, Madam. They were just fooling around, and I’ve got the Remembrall right here. Really, nothing bad happened, and both could clearly fly well enough to know what they were doing.”

Professor McGonagall looked towards Weasley and the rest of the Gryffindors, her expression sceptic. When the rest of the Gryffindors didn’t gave any impression that Weasley was wrong, however, she sighed and turned back. Obviously, a Gryffindor affirming a Slytherin’s story was enough to convince her.

“Well then,” Madam Hooch said, looking briefly at Professor McGonagall, “you two might be able to fly, but you still disregarded my specific instructions. Ten points from Slytherin. Each.”

Harry heard several of the Slytherins behind him groan, but he was happy enough they were not being expelled.

“And you will both serve detention,” Professor McGonagall added. “You will report to your Head of House tomorrow after lunch. I will inform him myself.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry and Draco both replied.

“I think it best to just dismiss class then,” Madam Hooch said, letting out a sigh. “Leave the brooms, I will take care of them. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

The two women walked away, and the Slytherins turned towards the Gryffindors.

“Slytherin owes Gryffindor their thanks,” Draco said, nodding towards Weasley.

“I didn’t do it for you, Malfoy,” Weasley said. “Or for Slytherin. I did it because Potter here gave us back the Remembrall.”

“It doesn’t matter what the reason is,” Harry said. “We are still grateful.”

Weasley shrugged. “Whatever.”

He then turned around and walked back to the castle, followed by the rest of the Gryffindors. They started whispering among themselves the moment they were out of hearing range.

Harry turned to walk back to the castle as well, when he was stopped by Draco.

“Can I have a word with you, Potter?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “You want to talk in private?”

“No, that’s fine,” Malfoy replied. “It’s Slytherin business anyway. I just wanted to thank you for what you did.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Thank me? You didn’t even let me do it.”

“That’s not the point, Potter. The point is that you wanted to. I did not think you realised what you did.”

“I’m not entirely sure I understand, to be honest,” Harry said. “But clearly, your status is important to you, so I didn’t want to offend you by going against you just now. So uhm, that was me trying to show I didn’t exactly think I’m better than you.”

Draco shook his head. “You still don’t understand then.”

Harry’s heart sank. Had he acted incorrect again? He had been so sure Draco’s so-called reputation was the problem.

“It’s not so much about reputation, and it’s not about today, either,” Draco said.

“I’m sorry, I really do not understand. Did I do something wrong again?”

“You went against him during Potions our first week, Harry,” Daphne explained. “In front of the Gryffindors no less.”

Harry frowned, not understanding what they were talking about. “I had an argument with Weasley, I never did anything to Draco.”

“You declined my help when I reacted to Weasley,” Draco said. “Showing the Gryffindors you felt you didn’t need me, that you were above me.”

“No I didn’t. Or at least, that’s not what I tried to do. I just didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“It doesn’t matter what you tried to do, Potter,” Pansy said. “It matters how you came across. You went against Draco, showing that leadership in Slytherin is not yet clearly decided upon.”

“So that’s the problem?” Harry asked, a bit disbelieving. It came down to a simple matter of leadership?

“If Draco wants the leadership, he can have it. I really wasn’t trying to deny him that or anything. I’m sorry if that’s how I came across.”

Malfoy waved the apology away. “As long as you understand now, I’m fine with it. And it’s not exactly a matter of who wants leadership, Potter. It’s a matter of who has the most power.”

“You can call me Harry,” he reacted, mostly an automatic reaction to someone calling him by his last name. “And uhm, can someone maybe explain this whole leadership thing to me then, since I’m clearly missing some sort of crucial part of knowledge that you all learned from your family. Mostly muggle raised, remember?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Harry, we should have realised you wouldn’t know. It’s just, normally Slytherin doesn’t really have students that do not know these things already.”

“So, shall we try again?” Draco asked, smirking.

“Try what again?” Harry asked.

Draco extended his hand toward Harry. Harry, realising that Draco was attempting to get them to become friends, smiled and accepted to offered hand.

“Can I ask something, Draco?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

“Why didn’t you let me do it?”

“Because, like I said, it wasn’t necessary,” Draco replied, like it was obvious.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“You quite publicly stopped me from helping at Potions, which showed you thought yourself above my help, which was a wrong message to send,” Draco said. “But trying to take the blame for something which was clearly my fault in the first place meant you were putting yourself below me, which was also the wrong thing to show.”

“Why?” Harry asked, becoming more and more confused the longer this conversastion went on. “I thought you were supposed to be the Slytherin leader. Didn’t you just say that? Then wouldn’t that place me below you, meaning it was the right thing to do?”

Draco shook his head. “You see, normally it’s quite clear who will become a year’s Speaker. But there’s some complications this year. Everyone expected me to be Slytherin’s Speaker this year. Most of the others in our year that I already knew have known that from the day we met. I’m the male Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, one of the most influential families out there. I was always supposed to become Slytherin’s Speaker, as my father was before me, and most Malfoys have been in the time they were students here.”

“But you did something nobody expected,” Draco continued. “You, the Boy-Who-Lived, icon of the so-called Light, and expected Speaker for Gryffindor - when you would choose to attend Hogwarts that is - became a Slytherin.”

“I was supposed to become Gryffindor’s leader?” Harry asked. “But I didn’t even grow up in the Wizarding World. I don’t know anything about all this political stuff.”

Daphne chuckled. “Oh, but that wouldn’t be necessary, Harry. You would be helped by your fellow purebloods, of course. And Gryffindor has always been less inclined to follow the pureblood customs anyway. But you, The-Boy-Who-Lived, would automatically have become the Speaker of Gryffindor. And even if you weren’t, you’re a Potter. They might not be one of the Twenty-Eight, but they’re still an influential family. I do believe your father was the Speaker for his year when he was at Hogwarts as well. Those two things together would have made sure your influence would have been greater than any other pureblood student that Gryffindor might get.”

“What Daphne said,” Draco agreed. “I mean, Longbottom is the Heir to one of the so-called Twenty-Eight as well, but he wouldn’t have even half of your influence. Especially not now, when you are both still eleven years old.”

“Which means we now have two prospective Speakers in Slytherin,” he continued.

“But I wasn’t expected to become one in Slytherin, from what you tell me,” Harry said. “And you were, so that would obviously make you Slytherin’s leader or Speaker or whatever now, doesn’t it? And you know everyone already and everything. I’m still and outsider, it shouldn’t be me.”

“It’s not an official position, Potter,” Pansy said.

“Harry. Please, can you all just start calling me Harry?”

Pansy sighed. “Fine, fine, Harry it is. Like I said, it’s not an official thing. You don’t really have any power, it’s a perception thing.”

“And with you now a Slytherin, that means I’m not the obvious choice anymore,” Draco said. “Which Weasley realised just now. He didn’t lie to Professor McGonagall to help me, but to help you. He realised that there are two possible Speakers in Slytherin at the moment.”

Harry groaned. “Really, I don’t need to become some sort of leader. I don’t even know why we have one, or what it would mean. I would probably just screw it up. Like I screwed up during Potions, or today. Can’t you just take the position?”

Draco shook his head. “I can’t do that. I might have the most influence in Slytherin House at the moment, but you clearly have the most influence outside Hogwarts, with you being The-Boy-Who-Lived. Which means right now, we’re probably of equal standing.”

“And that means?” Harry asked.

“Quite simply put,” Draco said, “it means we work together. Even if we might not necessarily agree with each other, we work together in public. Anything that we disagree on will be figured out inside Slytherin.”

“So, one united front?” Harry asked. “That’s the idea?”

“Pretty much,” Draco said, nodding.

He then turned towards the other Slytherins. “Daphne, Pansy, make sure Harry knows what he needs to know before tomorrow. I’m calling a First Year meeting tomorrow, after our detention. Make sure you’re all in the Common Room after dinner. I don’t want to have to go looking for anyone.”

Harry groaned, having almost forgotten the detention he was supposed to serve with Severus. “Detention.”

“Don’t worry,” Draco said, smirking. “I’m sure Severus won’t be too hard on us. He’s my Godfather after all. And seeing as Gryffindor’s Head of House called for the detention, in what was not even one of her classes to begin with, he might even let us off just to spite her.”

Harry smiled, hoping Draco was right. The two new Slytherin leaders then walked back towards the castle, the other Slytherins falling in step behind them, as if it had always been that way.

 

***

 

That evening, Harry sat down with Daphne and Pansy in front of the fire, ready to learn about the way Hogwarts and the four Houses seemed to have a more complicated structure than he had known.

“Let’s start with what you do know, shall we?” Daphne said.

“Pretty much only what Draco said after our Flying lesson, to be honest,” Harry answered. “I mean, I know each House has prefects for 5th year and up. And apparently there’s also some sort of leader for each year. And from what I gathered, it has something to do with the amount of influence someone, or their family, has.”

Daphne nodded. “That’s pretty much right. There’s not really an official term for them, but we usually use Speaker. But there’s two for each year, not one. There’s a boy and a girl. Normally, those are also the two that will become prefect from 5th year onward, though sometimes exceptions can be made. In general though, Professor Snape goes with whoever have been the appointed leaders for that year.”

“So which of you is it?” Harry was quick to pick up things, or at least he liked to believe he was, and he figured there had to be a reason the both of them were the ones to explain this to him. He also remembered they were the only two girls that were Heirs to one of the Twenty-Eight.

“Daphne is the Speaker for the girls,” Pansy replied. “The House of Greengrass is more influential than the House of Parkinson. I’m her Second.”

“Which means that if I’m unable to be present or something, for whatever reason, Pansy is able to stand in for me,” Daphne continued. “Now, normally, Draco would have been the Speaker for the boys, and thus also for our year as a whole. Theo would have been his Second. Don’t ask me why the boys are higher than the girls, by the way, it’s just how things are. And in our case, the House of Malfoy is more influential than the House of Greengrass anyway.”

“So what happens with Draco, Theo and me now?”

“Theo won’t be a Second anymore,” Pansy said, shrugging. “The House of Potter is not one of the Twenty-Eight, and the House of Nott is, but you are an Heir, while he isn’t. That would normally make things slightly tricky, especially because the House of Potter is one of the higher pureblood families, while the House of Nott is one of the lower ones of the Twenty-Eight. I’m speaking here in terms of influence, by the way, which is based on money and political power, among others.

“However, you are most definitely higher in rank, for lack of a better word, than Theo is. Because you are the last Potter, you will become Lord Potter the moment you become of age, while Theo isn’t an Heir. That means you would become a Lord before graduating, and you would definitely be higher than him in your seventh year. When situations like that are known beforehand, roles and titles can be assigned slightly differently from what the current situation would suggest. We would rather not have to change them later on, because that makes things confusing not only for us, but also for those outside of Slytherin.”

“So Theo is pushed aside because I’m going to be more influential in six years or something?” Harry asked. That didn’t feel right to him.

Daphne shook her head. “What Pansy just explained is what would happen if you were just Harry Potter. However, you are also the Boy-Who-Lived, something that gives you a whole lot of extra influence in our world. And with that I don’t just mean the pureblood part, but the entire Wizarding World. You would most definitely have been the Speaker for Gryffindor, something we had all pretty much expected. So what Pansy said, coupled with you being the Boy-Who-Lived, places you above Theo.”

“Doesn’t he mind? I mean, didn’t Draco say something about you all knowing about this stuff since you were children? If Theo has grown up thinking he would be Draco’s Second, then isn’t he upset that he’s now pretty much pushed aside?”

“It doesn’t matter what Theo thinks about this,” Pansy said. “It’s the way things work around here. He knows that.”

“Of course it matters what he thinks!” Harry exclaimed.

People were now staring at the three of them, and Harry mentally scolded himself for yelling and dragging attention to them. He noticed Theo was also looking at him. The moment they made eye contact, Theo shook his head. Harry frowned. Did he know what Harry had meant with that? He figured that since everyone in their year knew what the three of them were currently talking about, it might not have been too hard for Theo to figure out.

“Can you two give me a minute?” Harry asked. Daphne looked up to see what he was looking at, and waved him off.

Harry went over to Theo, signalling him to follow him until they stood a little bit away from the other Slytherins.

Theo raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was making it pretty clear to you. Do you not understand basic gestures?”

“Don’t joke, Theo. Not now, please.”

“I’m not joking,” Theo replied. “You’re worried about me and my feelings, and I’m telling you it doesn’t matter. I understand.”

“Yeah, well, I sure don’t.” Harry rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “You guys have all grown up knowing all this stuff, and it’s all completely new for me. So while I get that you probably understand better than me why I’m somehow higher in whatever ranking system you all use, I don’t get why you don’t seem to mind that I’m taking your place.”

“Of course I mind,” Theo spat, now glaring at him. “I mind that I’m always second best, that I’m second to my brother, to Draco, and now even to you. But that doesn’t matter!”

He took a deep breath before continuing in a much calmer tone. “I mind, okay, about a lot of things. But that doesn’t matter. You have more influence than me, so I’m no longer Draco’s Second. Things are the way they are, nothing I can change about them. And there’s nothing you can change about them either. I’m not upset with you for it. So stop worrying about me, and get back to Daphne and Pansy. Because believe me, you don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“So we’re still good?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Yes, we’re good. Now go!”

Harry walked back to Daphne and Pansy, all the while shaking his head. Theo was a bit of a weird one, but he was glad that they were friends. Or well, friends was maybe a bit of a stretch, but they were at least able to get along fairly well. He made a mental note to himself to get Theo a nice present for Christmas or something, to make up for the situation.

“So are you done with feeling sorry for Theo now?” Pansy asked, when Harry dropped himself into the chair across from her and Daphne again.

“Pansy, you’re not helping,” Daphne hissed.

“It’s fine, Daphne, let her. I don’t really mind.”

Daphne shook her head. “Really Harry, sometimes I can’t follow the way your mind works at all.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry replied, grinning. “So let’s see if I got this straight. You are the Speaker for the girls in our year, with Pansy here being your Second. Now Draco is the Speaker for the boys, and while Theo was supposed to be his Second, that position or title or whatever it is, has now been given to me. And for some reason, I might even be equal to Draco, meaning there are two Speakers, and no Second?”

“Pretty much,” Daphne replied. “Draco is the Heir to one of the Twenty-Eight, and one of the higher ones at that. But you are the Heir, and even Lord if we forget about the fact that you’re not of age, to one of the higher houses that are not part of the Twenty-Eight, as well as the Boy-Who-Lived, meaning you have about as much influence as Draco, maybe even more. Which is why you would have been Speaker for Gryffindor, if you had become one.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means that for now, you and Draco have to figure out how to work together.”

“No, I got that part,” Harry answered. “I meant, what does it mean that I’m one of those Speakers?”

“Pretty much what the name implies,” Daphne answered. “You speak for the Slytherins in our year. When you say or announce something in public, you are assumed to be speaking for everyone in our year, unless you specifically say you aren’t, or unless that’s clear from the conversation.”

“That’s all?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. From all the fuss everyone seemed to make about this whole thing, he had expected it to be a lot more complicated, or at least bigger.

“It’s not,” Pansy said. “It also means the rest of us are going to be looking at you for a certain amount of guidance. Since Daphne and I are also part of this little leadership group however, we will of course be a little bit of a different matter.”

“And don’t worry about not knowing what to do,” Daphne continued. “For now, just let Draco speak whenever you don’t know or aren’t sure about something, especially outside of Slytherin. The three of us will try and get you up to speed with whatever you might need to know as soon as we can, so whenever something is not clear or you want to know some more about something, don’t hesitate to ask one of us.”

“Normally, a Speaker would be the leader, and a Second would be his or her adviser, so to speak,” Pansy said. “Now obviously things will be a little different for you and Draco, because it’s not clear which of you is which, but that’s the basics.”

“Okay, yeah, I think I’ve got it,” Harry said, running his fingers through his hair. It kept falling into his eyes, and he absentmindedly decided to try and figure out if there was something he could do about it.

“So, Weasley is the Speaker for Gryffindor, right?”

Daphne nodded. “Seems like it, at least. The Weasley’s are still one of the Twenty-Eight, even when they don’t act like it. Longbottom is an Heir though, and his family is also part of the Twenty-Eight, so usually he would have been Speaker. But I don’t think his grandmother ever prepared him for that. She probably expected you to become the Speaker, and never considered the possibility.”

“So how did Weasley become Speaker, when he isn’t an Heir?”

“Like Daphne said, Longbottom doesn’t act like one. And Weasley has quite a few older brothers, which gives him a bit of an advantage inside of Gryffindor. What we told you earlier about influence and family, they aren’t exactly rules. They’re more like guidelines. And Gryffindor has always been less inclined to follow the old ways.”

“Which reminds me Harry, you called Weasley a blood traitor that first time in Potions,” Daphne said, playing with a loose curl of hair. “I was just wondering, why did you do that?”

Harry bit his lip. He remembered the way the Gryffindors had stared at him, and wondered again if he had done something wrong. He had meant to ask one of the others about it after class, but then Severus had asked him to stay, and he had forgotten about it.

“Blaise had been explaining about the Sacred Twenty-Eight earlier that week. He had mentioned the fact that the Weasleys are considered blood traitors. So when he accused me of betraying my parents, I used that. Did I say something wrong?”

“It depends,” Daphne replied, sounding thoughtful. “Do you know what it means?”

“Uhm, that they don’t follow wizarding customs?”

Daphne groaned slightly. “Okay, this is what I was afraid of. It’s not so much that they ignore wizarding customs, Harry, it’s that they do so in favour of interacting with muggles and muggleborns, and are outspoken opposers of the old ways.”

“Basically, in trying to convince him that you weren’t betraying your parents with your little speech, you sort of insulted your mother,” Pansy said.

Harry groaned, dropping his head in his hands. This was why he wasn’t supposed to become any kind of figurehead for Slytherin. This was why he hated having grown up with his aunt and uncle, instead of with a proper wizarding family. No wonder Draco had said he didn’t understand him after that.

“How do I fix this?”

“You don’t,” Pansy replied. “There’s no way to fix this without either making your own position worse, or insulting someone else in the process.”

“We just move on,” Daphne added. “We forget it happened, and act like it never happened. It’s not like interactions between us and the Gryffindors could get any worses anyway.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Harry asked. He knew that Gryffindor and Slytherin had always sort of been at odds, but it seemed to be a bit worse than just House rivalry.

“Well, first there’s the normal Gryffindor vs Slytherin rivalry of course. That one’s always been there.” Daphne paused, sharing a look with Pansy, before smiling at him. “And then there’s you.”

“Me?”

“Of course,” Pansy replied. “We stole you from them.”

“Nobody stole me!” Harry exclaimed. It wasn’t as if anyone had forced him to become a Slytherin. He then noticed both girls were laughing. “Okay, I get it, you’re joking. Next point.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Daphne said, still smiling. “It was just too good an opportunity to pass on. You’re just so easy to get a reaction from.”

“And we weren’t entirely joking,” Pansy continued. “I’m pretty sure the Gryffindors are mad you became a Slytherin, instead of a Gryffindor. But another thing this year is the personal element of the Malfoys and the Weasleys.”

Harry frowned, not quite understanding what she meant. She must have noticed, for she quickly explained.

“The Malfoys and the Weasleys have some sort of family feud. I’m not exactly sure what it is about, I don’t think even the Malfoys and Weasleys really remember what it is about, to be honest. It just is. So with at least part of the students knowing that the leaders of Slytherin and Gryffindor are quite literally having some sort of feud with each other, especially the pureblood ones, the two Houses will definitely not get along. Now the other students might not know exactly what is going on, but they will just go along with the rest of the House, noticing that we don’t seem to get along.”

“Am I the only one that thinks this is all a bit ridiculous?” Harry asked. “I mean, we’re eleven, and we’re all playing some sort of political game already!”

“But we’re also the leaders of the future,” Daphne said. “My mother always told me it’s like trying to figure out early on who will be important later in life. If you play your cards wisely during your Hogwarts years, you will be able to profit from that later. Most purebloods, and therefore most of Slytherin, will do it pretty intentionally. Most of the muggleborn students, and those that have families that are not as active or high-profile in the Wizarding World don’t really realise that they’re doing it, but they will. Weasley probably falls in that category.”

Harry groaned. “And they learn this to kids?”

“It’s not really something they teach, more something that is, I don’t know, implied? When growing up in the Wizarding World it is something that you just understand from teh people around you. It becomes natural.”

“It’s not always intentional, but the game is played by everyone at Hogwarts,” Pansy added. “Even those that have never even heard the term Speaker of Second, like the muggleborns, will almost always act the same as if they would know.”

“Okay, yeah, I guess the same could even be said of schools in the muggle world,” Harry conceded. “But still, it just seems a bit weird, you know.”

“You’ll figure it out as you go.” Daphne gave him what Harry supposed was an encouraging smile, but it didn’t really help.

“Let’s just hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think about this system with Speakers? Do you think it makes sense? Do you find it strange? Let me know what you guys think. I love to hear from you!


	9. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not J.K. Rowling. Not beta'd.

“Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, come with me.”

Both Harry and Draco looked up from desert and turned around to see Severus standing behind them.

Harry cast a last longing glance at the last of his treacle tart, before he pushing it away from him and picked up his bag, Draco doing the same next to him. They both stood up and followed Severus when he walked out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons.

Severus kept silent all the way to the Potions Classroom, and neither Harry or Draco dared to break that silence. They might both know the man a little better than a regular student, but that also meant they knew he cared about his respect even more than the other teachers.

When they had entered the classroom, Harry and Draco glanced at each other before deciding to sit down on one of the first benches.

Severus walked over towards his desk, before turning around sharply, his cloak billowing around him. He leaned back against the desk, folded his arms across his chest and fixed them both in place with a glare. “Now, gentlemen, I have been informed by Professor McGonagall that I am to be holding a detention for you.”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Severus put up a hand to stop him. Draco immediately closed his mouth again.

“Please do not interrupt me or speak until I ask you a question, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco nodded, clearly not daring to actually speak an answer, and let Severus continue.

“While I do not necessarily enjoy hosting detentions for my own Snakes, especially when they are given by Gryffindor’s Head of House, I do feel the need to accept her judgement in this case.”

Harry saw Draco smirk slightly at the admission from Severus that he didn’t like the fact that Professor McGonagall had given them detention, but it disappeared again when he agreed with the fact that they should indeed have a detention.

“You two were flying, at your very first flying lesson, without any adult supervision. Would one of you care to explain to me what you were thinking?”

When they both remained silent, Severus let out a sigh. He pinched his nose, before gesturing towards them. “That was not a rhetorical question.”

“We both knew how to fly, Severus,” Draco said, sticking with the story they had told McGonagall. It would have been the logical thing to do, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was Severus. “It wasn’t really as if we needed someone to oversee us. You know I have been able to fly for some years now.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry, who felt himself turn a bit red, because Severus obviously knew Harry had never been on a broom before. Draco didn’t know that though. He realised that it might have been a good idea to mention it to him, but he wouldn’t know how to tell him without having to explain why exactly Severus knew. And it wasn’t as if he could tell him that he had been living with Severus.

“And where did you learn how to fly, Mr Potter?” Severus asked.

“It was obvious he knows how to fly, Severus. Even McGonagall admitted that,” Draco replied.

“That’s Professor McGonagall, Mr Malfoy. And please do refer to me as Professor when I’m giving you a detention.”

“Uhm, Draco?” Harry said softly. “I really hadn’t been on a broom before.”

Draco turned towards him in shock. “You mean to tell me that was really the first time you were on a broom? You weren’t pretending earlier this week?”

Harry nodded, scratching his head. “I just did what felt right, and well, that worked, I guess.”

“You guess?” Draco asked. “You guess? Merlin! That move you did when catching that Remembrall, that was worthy of a long-time Quidditch player!”

“So you admit you mounted a broom and started flying with no supervision, even after clear instructions to stay on the ground until after said supervisor was back?” Severus asked.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said. “It won’t happen again.”

Severus shot him a glare, but a moment later his stance relaxed a little. “As long as that is clear, Potter. Now, tell me about that catch.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just saw the ball fly through the air and went after it.”

“Oh come on!” Draco exclaimed. “You make it sound so normal.”

He then turned towards Severus, who was eyeing them with a neutral expression.

“I threw the ball away from me, and he caught it while going full-speed towards the ground, and pulling up his broom at the last second. You know I have been to several professional Quidditch games sir, and I swear I have never seen any of them pull of something like that better than he did.”

“I really don’t think I was that good,” Harry mumbled, turning red again. He hadn’t done anything special. There was no need for Draco to sound so excited about it.

“Mr Malfoy is not usually one to overreact to anything, Mr Potter,” Severus said. “Especially not when talking about the skills of somebody else.”

Draco huffed. “You could have said that a bit different.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and silently dared him to challenge him.

“Oh okay, fine,” Draco said, throwing up his hands. “He’s right, it’s not something I usually do. So when I say you are one of the best flyers I have seen, Harry, you better believe me.”

“And I hope you will be interested in joining the House team next year, Mr Potter,” Severus added. “Mr Higgs has mentioned interest in becoming a Chaser when Mr Hooke leaves next year, so that will leave our position of seeker open. I am sure you will do well in the position. From what I hear from Mr Malfoy, I don’t believe we have anyone more competent.”

“But I don’t even know what Quidditch is? How do you know I will be so good at it?” Harry asked.

“Because I have seen your father play,” Severus added. “And even though he was a Gryffindor, even us Slytherin had to admit he was the best Seeker any of the four Houses had to offer. If what Mr Malfoy is saying is true, I do believe you have inherited his skills.”

“My father played?” Harry asked.

“As Gryffindor’s seeker, yes,” Severus replied.

“Now, on to the actual detention part, shall we?” Severus asked, smirking slightly. “I know you are both competent enough to be following instructions, as you showed in your Potions Class last Friday, so you will help me get some potions ready for Madam Pomfrey. The Hospital Wing needs some restocking.”

The next hour and a half Harry and Draco spent by carefully cutting and preparing various ingredients, while Severus did the actual brewing. All in all, Harry had to admit Draco had been right. It wasn’t all that bad of a detention. If not for the fact that it did become a bit tedious after the first hour, he thought he might even call the time spend with Draco and Severus enjoyable.

 

***

 

“You can start the meeting,” Draco told Harry, his voice low enough for the others not to hear him. He sat on Harry’s right side, Daphne sitting on Harry’s left, with Pansy on her other side.

The other Slytherins were seated in a semi-circle in front of them, around a big round table. They were currently at one of the smaller rooms in one of the corridors surrounding the Slytherin common room. The sixth year that had brought them here had said it was one of the old meeting rooms. Back in the day these rooms were used to host official meetings by Salazar Slytherin himself. Or at least, that’s how the story went. Now it was just one of the spare rooms that was used for whatever it was that needed a space outside of the actual common room. Like this so-called Year Meeting Draco had announced earlier that week.

The setting reminded Harry slightly of a movie Dudley had watched once, about a king and his Knights of the Round Table. He felt decidedly out of place however, not in the least confident in his ability to take the lead.

Daphne gently nudged him, whispering: “Come on, you can do this. We went over this. There’s no need to be nervous now. It’s just us.”

Harry took a deep breath, figuring he couldn’t really make this any worse after what had already happened at that first Potions class, and their flying lesson earlier that week.

“Welcome everyone, and thank you for being here,” Harry started. “This Wednesday, Draco called an official Year Meeting. I’m sure most of you understand why we’re here better than I do, but let’s pretend I understand, shall we? For some reason, Draco thought it was a good idea that I would lead this meeting, and while I highly doubt it, I figured I’d humour him.”

Harry noticed some of the others were chuckling, and Tracey smiled at him. Harry smiled back at her, happy about her small encouragement. It seemed that at least he wasn’t botching this up too much.

“Like most of you know, I grew up in the muggle world. I didn’t even know I was a wizard until this summer. So while most of this is pretty much automatic for you, please keep in mind that for me it’s almost all entirely new. I didn’t know I was a wizard, let alone a famous wizard, and I can assure you I never imagined I would someday be considered a leader of any kind. So bear with me, please, and if I make any mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me and help me understand. Now, since this is our first Year Meeting, I’ve understood that we’re supposed to officially introduce our Speakers and Seconds. Draco, would you do the honours, please?”

Draco nodded, looking around the table before speaking. “Things have become a bit different than most of us had expected. On the girls’ side, nothings changed. Daphne will be our Speaker, and Pansy her Second. This means she’s also in charge of all of our administration. Now on the boys’ side, things are not entirely clear yet. The influence and power of Harry and me isn’t exactly clear yet. Nobody expected this, so we have not prepared for it. For now, Harry and I will both be considered Speakers, until it is clear which of us will become Second.

“Like Harry said, he didn’t grow up the same way we did, and there’s a lot that he doesn’t know yet. We’re working on this, and we ask your help in this as well. If you notice Harry doesn’t seem to understand something, please explain it to him. For now, I will be acting as Speaker outside of Slytherin, while I’m going to have Harry act as Speaker inside of Slytherin, to let him figure out how stuff works. That way, there will be no unfortunate mistakes towards other Houses, like there have been in the past few weeks. This was a mistake on our part, because we did not realise Harry did not understand about all of this. Does anyone have any objections to this?”

“I have no complaints about whatever you two figure out, but I was just wondering, what in Merlin’s name is going on with Gryffindor? Why hasn’t Longbottom become their Speaker?” Millicent asked. “I mean, his family is one of the Twenty-Eight, and he’s an Heir. He was supposed to be Harry’s Second, was he not? So why isn’t he their new Speaker?”

“Have you seen the way Longbottom acts?” Theo asked. “There’s no way he would be accepted as Speaker by the other Houses.”

“But still. He has a higher status than Weasley.”

Harry felt like he needed to defend Neville in some way, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to do that the correct way. Of course Theo was right, the way Neville acted wasn’t exactly how anyone would picture someone in any kind of leaderships position, but the way everyone seemed to sort of pick on Neville reminded Harry just a tad too much of how he had always been treated back in primary school.

“Gryffindor has never much cared for following the traditional ways,” Draco replied, focusing the attention back on himself, and effectively stopping the small arguments that had started between the others. “Longbottom would have been Harry’s Second, and I’m sure he was prepared for that. However, he isn’t prepared for becoming a Speaker, and it shows. Weasley must have noticed, and taken over. He has three older brothers currently at Hogwarts, one of them a Prefect, which surely helped him gain control inside his year. Most of the other Gryffindors this year are either half-blood or muggleborn, and have not grown up learning about these things. They probably aren’t even really aware of what happened.”

“But it’s still wrong, isn’t it?” Blaise asked. “I mean, are we supposed to ignore Longbottom in favour of Weasley now? Because in terms of family status, Longbottom is still higher than Weasley.”

“We’ll have to follow whatever Gryffindor does,” Daphne said, shrugging. “If they choose Weasley over Longbottom, we have no choice but to accept that, and follow their example.”

Pansy passed Harry a sheet of parchment. He quickly realised it was the list of Speakers of each House. He nodded at her, signalling his thanks. The next part of the meeting was easy part. He only had to read the list of names, and the notes scribbled next to them, and tell everyone what Pansy had written down for him.

“Now if that’s clear,” Harry said, effectively pulling attention back to himself, “I think it’s time for us to quickly go over the other Speakers of each House.

“For Gryffindor, Weasley seems to have become Speaker on the boys’ side, Patil is Speaker on the girls’ side. Unfortunately, we don’t know much about the Patil family, except that they moved to England two generations ago, and that they originally come from,” here Harry had to check the notes scribbled next to her name, “India. Other than that, all we know is that the name is mentioned a few times in old history books, meaning their family was probably pretty powerful once. Any other information we’ll have to figure out as we go.

“Now for Hufflepuff, we have Macmillan and Bones. The House of Macmillan is one of the Twenty-Eight, which means he has grown up learning our ways. The House of Bones is also one of the Twenty-Eight, and Amelia Bones, her aunt, has recently been promoted to Head of the DMLE. I’m afraid I can’t remember what that stands for.” Harry looked up at Daphne for help.

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It’s the department that’s in charge of the aurors,” Daphne said.

“They’re the magical equivalent of the police,” Tracey helpfully added.

Harry smiled at her, glad that there was at least one person that was familiar with the muggle world, and could make connections like this for him. “Thank you Tracey.”

“Bones is probably going to grow into quite a bit of influence, especially in the Ministry, so we’re going to have to keep an eye on her,” Daphne continued. “Same with Macmillan. His family hasn’t really moved into the political scene the last few years, but we’ll never know what will happen later. If you find out anything you think is important, or might become important, you can bring the information to Pansy. She has our files. That doesn’t only pertain Speakers, of course.”

Daphne then nodded at Harry, signalling for him to continue with the list.

“Then lastly we have Ravenclaw. We’re not exactly clear on their situation yet, and we’re not sure they are either. We think their Speakers are Boot and the other Patil twin, but like I said, we’re not sure. As soon as we know for sure, we’ll tell you. All clear?”

When nobody spoke up, Harry passed the list back to Pansy, so she could put it back in her files. He was still a bit unsure why they would even need all these files, but he figured that as long as he wasn’t in charge of them, he didn’t have to worry about that. And Pansy seemed to be happy enough about it.

“Then I think we can finish this up. Does anyone have anything else they want to add to this meeting?”

“I have something,” Draco said.

“Go for it,” Harry replied, giving Draco permission to take over from him again.

“I received the owl this morning, just in time for this meeting. As most of you probably know, the Ministry holds an official New Years Ball each year. As always, it will be sponsored by my family, meaning it will take place at Malfoy Manor. Since this is my first year at Hogwarts, father has decided to invite every first year Slytherin, along with the usual Ministry guests. He has already cleared it with the Minister, of course. Everything is taken care of. I hope you all don’t have any plans yet, because you sure aren’t going to want to miss this.”

Harry inwardly laughed at that. He didn’t even technically have a home at the moment, there really wasn’t an option of him already having plans for the holidays. Unless he decided to go back to the Dursleys, but that wasn’t even a remote possibility in Harry’s mind.

“I think most of your parents will have already received a regular Ministry invitation to the Ball, but if not, you’re allowed to bring them with you. Harry, that includes the family you’re currently living with.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You think it would be that easy to figure out with whom I’m currently living?”

Draco shrugged. “It was worth a try, wasn’t it?”

Harry grinned. “It was. And who knows, maybe you’ll even see them at the Ball.”

Draco frowned, and so did some of the others. They were clearly trying to figure out what Harry meant. Harry didn’t mind, they could try all they want, since there wasn’t even anything to figure out. He currently had no home, so there wasn’t any risk of them finding out where his home was.

When Harry looked away from Draco and back at the rest of the table, he noticed the girls were already deep in conversation with each other, huddled together and whispering.

“It would be lovely to attend the Malfoy Ball, Draco,” Daphne said, smiling. “My parents talked about them with happy memories each year.”

“But of course, my dear Daphne. Nothing but the best from the House of Malfoy,” Draco replied, smirking. “Although technically, it’s the Ministry Ball, not the Malfoy Ball.”

“Oh, shut it Draco. Everyone knows it’s only the Ministry Ball in name,” Theo said, rolling his eyes.

Draco shrugged. “But we have to keep up appearances for the Minister, don’t we.”

“Can’t have him realising what the rest of us have known all along,” Pansy smirked.

“Exactly, Pansy. Exactly. Now, where do I have those invitations.” Draco rummaged through his bag, mumbling something under his breath that Harry couldn’t quite hear.

“Got them!” He pulled a small stack of envelopes out of his bag, and passed them out. “Don’t forget to sent back a reply.”

“Don’t worry Draco, none of us would want to miss it,” Daphne said. “We’ll be there.”


	10. A late Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not J.K. Rowling.
> 
> Last week, I managed to found a beta: [Jarek](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/jarek). This is their first time being a beta, but they are absolutely amazing. I feel like the quality of this chapter now really is better than it would have been without them. We will be going over the first few chapters in the following weeks, to get them corrected as well.

On Monday, Harry walked into the Herbology greenhouses and plopped down in his usual seat next to Hermione. He had noticed some, if not most, of the other Slytherins were a bit uncomfortable with this, but he didn’t worry about that too much. Hermione was one of the brightest people of their year, and if they couldn’t get over the fact that her parents were muggles, then that was their problem, not his.

“Hey Harry,” Hermione said, smiling at him. “Is something wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, it’s just, you look a bit out of it, like you’re worried about something,” Hermione said.

“Draco just invited all the first year Slytherins over to his House for New Year’s. And somehow I am now some sort of leader for the Slytherins in our year,” Harry said.

Hermione frowned. “I’ll come back to Malfoy in a minute, but what do you mean with leader? And how did that even happen?”

Harry shrugged, and summarised what Draco, Daphne, and Pansy had explained about the traditions and ways of Speakers per year in the different Houses.

Hermione pulled a piece of parchment from her bag, and scribbled down a few sentences. “So this is something of a Hogwarts tradition? I never read anything like that in any of my books. And I wouldn’t have any clue who would be these so-called Speakers in Ravenclaw then.”

“We think it’s Terry Boot. And for the girls, we're currently guessing Padma Patil, since her twin is Speaker for Gryffindor. Their family seems to have been quite important. At least, those are the two that Slytherin recognises as your Speakers for the time being. It will change if Ravenclaw makes it clear you decided on others of course. Inside Ravenclaw, I don’t know, you guys might even go on grade average or something,” Harry joked.

“I will have to look into that,” Hermione said, jotting down a few more short notes. “Now back to you getting invited by Malfoy for New Year’s, why is that making you worry?”

“It’s a formal ball,” Harry said, pulling the invitation he had gotten from Draco out of his bag. He handed it over to Hermione for her to read.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Hermione exclaimed, her expression immediately changing from worried to excited. She carefully opened the envelope and read the invitation, the smile never leaving her face. She then placed it back inside the envelope and handed it back to him.

Harry stared at her, a bit surprised the studious girl next to him would get excited about something like a formal ball.

“Hermione, I don’t mean to be rude, but have you ever been to a formal ball? Because from the little I know about it, it doesn’t seem wonderful to me at all.”

Hermione smiled brightly. “My grandmother is officially a Lady. You know, with the title and everything. I’ve been to some of her parties and formals for the last two years, ever since I turned ten. I used to love them. Well, if I forget about the fact that my mom always needed hours to fix my hair.”

“You’re twelve?” Harry asked. “But don’t we all start Hogwarts at eleven?”

“My birthday is September 19,” Hermione replied. “I guess I’m one of the oldest in our year.”

“You never said anything! Why didn’t you tell me when it was your birthday?” Harry felt hurt, even though he knew it was a bit stupid. It wasn’t like he and Hermione were great friends or anything, but he still couldn’t help but feel like she should have mentioned it. That way he could have gotten her something, or at the very least just wished her a happy birthday. He knew how happy he had been when Severus gave him his first real birthday present. Surely he would have been able to make Hermione happy with a present as well.

Hermione shrugged. “It never really came up. And we didn’t share any classes that day, so I never really saw you.”

“You mentioned once you spoke French, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fluent,” Hermione replied, seeming a bit surprised at the sudden change of topic. “We often go to France during the holidays. So when I decided I wanted to learn a second language, it was the most logical choice. And it's just such a beautiful language. Why do you ask?”

An idea for a belated birthday present was slowly forming in Harry’s head. He was trying to figure out how he was going to get it to work, and who he needed to get to help him.

“You want to show the Slytherins being muggleborn doesn’t make you any different from them?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Hermione replied, grinning. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’ve got to figure out some details, but could you ask your parents if they would allow for you to go to a party on New Year’s?”

Hermione’s eyes gleamed with sudden understanding. “Oh Harry, that would be amazing! Thank you so much! I’ll write them this afternoon.”

“Happy Birthday, Hermione,” Harry replied, happy to know he was able to give her some sort of present, even if it was horribly late.

“Oh, can I ask you for something Harry?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Would you mind asking the girls in Slytherin if they could recommend some hair products? It always took my mother ages to fix my hair for those things, and although I loved the parties itself, I didn’t exactly love that part.”

Harry grinned, secretly glad he wasn’t the only one who had hair-related problems. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

 

***

 

“Mr Potter, stay for a moment.”

Harry waited for his classmates to walk out of the Potions classroom before leaning against the front bench, casually waiting for Severus to finish cleaning out the cauldrons and clearing the blackboard.

“The Christmas Holidays are almost upon us,” Severus said, leaning against his desk opposite of Harry.

Harry nodded. It was hard not to notice, with all the excitement around the castle.

“I realise your classmates will almost all return home, especially the ones from Slytherin.”

Harry nodded again. He had seen the sign up list for staying during the holiday. From the Slytherins, the only one that was staying was a seventh year. From his year, he had been able to learn only a Hufflepuff was staying, and he didn’t really know the girl. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs didn’t share any classes, so the only thing he knew about her was her name.

“I usually work on potions when there are no classes, replenishing the stocks for both myself and the infirmary. If you are looking for something to do during the holidays, you are welcome to join me in my lab,” Severus said.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said. He was grateful for the offer, it would give him something to do other than sit alone in the Common Room. He had resigned himself to two weeks of reading and feeling sorry for himself already, and though he did not mind reading, some human contact would be a lot better than being on his own for almost two full weeks.

“Now, onto the Malfoy New Year’s Ball,” Severus said. “I know Mr Malfoy has invited all Slytherins in your year. Are you planning on attending?”

“Don’t you mean the Ministry Ball, Professor?” Harry asked cheekily, grinning at the man.

“I do not feel the need to pretend when I’m talking with one of my Snakes, Mr Potter,” Severus answered. “Are you attending, or not?”

“He told us we were all expected,” Harry answered. “I do not think I would be able to refuse even if I wanted to.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You are saying you do not want to refuse?”

“Nope.” Harry shook his head, grinning at his Head of House. “Actually, I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“Oh, it’s harmless, really,” Harry replied. “You know Hermione, from Ravenclaw?”

“Notorious Know-It-All,” Severus replied. “There is no way I would not know her, the way she behaves in class. How is she involved in your surprise?”

“She’s not that bad,” Harry countered, feeling slightly offended on her behalf. “And she’s involved because, well, she sort of is the surprise.”

Severus pinched his nose. “Mr Potter, please tell me this is not going where I think it is going. These are the Malfoys we are speaking off, bringing a muggleborn to their precious ball will not be appreciated.”

“Aren’t there any muggleborns working in the Ministry?” Harry asked, confused.

Severus sighed. “Of course there are muggleborns working in the Ministry. But they are generally not in such positions that would get one an invitation to this ball.”

“Well, then it’s good Hermione’s not just any muggleborn. Her grandmother is a Lady, she is used to balls and formal parties like these. She certainly knows better than me, and Draco invited me over.”

“Mr Potter, it is not a question of how well she knows how these things work,” Severus said. “The fact is that she is muggleborn, and will not be allowed inside. However much you might like her, she is unfortunately still muggleborn, which in the eyes of the society you are now part of does not make her welcome.”

“But that’s just stupid!” Why did they have to make such a big deal out of this. Her parents happened to be muggles, that was all. It didn’t change the fact that Hermione was a witch.

“Whatever your opinion about this fact might be, it doesn’t change the fact that it is the way things work.”

“Whatever, that doesn’t matter anyway,” Harry replied. “Nobody is going to know who she is anyway. I’ve told Draco I’m bringing a friend I met through the family I’m living with, and that she’s from France. Hermione is fluent in French, so that will all work out.”

“Why do you insist on taking Miss Granger with you, Mr Potter?”

“Because I promised her. Her birthday was back in September, but she never told me. So I promised to take her, as a late birthday present. So I will take her, Professor.” Harry looked at him, daring him to tell him he couldn’t. Objectively, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice if he did, but he would try. He promised Hermione, and he would try his very best.

“Beauxbatons.”

“I’m sorry?” Harry asked, thrown off by that strange reply.

“Tell Miss Granger to research Beauxbatons. It’s the equivalent of Hogwarts in France. It will be the easiest cover story.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus nodded. “Since I realise I will not be able to persuade you, let’s at least make sure your plan will work. How are you going to get Miss Granger to Malfoy Manor?”

Harry flushed slightly. Now that Severus asked him like this, he realised that he actually had no clue how to actually do this. He didn’t even know how he was going to get himself there.

“Uhm, I think I’m going to need some help,” he admitted.

Severus sighed. “Obviously. You two can go to Malfoy Manor with me. I can pick up Miss Granger at The Leaky Cauldron, since I do not expect her parents’ home will be connected to the floo network.”

Harry nodded. Hermione had told him once she and her parents lived in London, so going to The Leaky Cauldron would probably not be to difficult.

“Now, how about your outfit?”

Harry felt himself blush. “I uhm- I don’t really know yet.”

“You can owl order something from Madam Malkin,” Severus said. “She will have your measurements on file from when you bought your school robes. If you prefer, you can also go there in person.”

“I wouldn’t know how to get there,” Harry mumbled.

“I would be willing to accompany you.”

Harry thought about it for a moment. It would be nice to be able to leave the castle for a bit, but he didn’t want to keep Severus from his work. After all, he had just explained he used his holiday to restock on potions, he must have a really busy schedule.

“Thank you for the offer, Professor, but I’m sure owl order will work fine.”

Severus nodded. “If you mention that you need an outfit for the Ministry Ball at Malfoy Manor, they will take care of the rest. If you have any preferences or special requests, you can list them, and they will figure something out. Do try and get your request in early, the Holidays are a busy period for all shops.”

“I will. Thank you, sir.”

“Now go, I am sure your classmates will be waiting for you.”

Harry smiled, picked up his bag and walked out of the classroom. There were still quite a few preparations he had to make for the Holiday period, but at least there were a few things less to worry about now. He would figure out the rest of them when he came to it.


	11. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been really long since I last updated, and I'm so, so sorry for that! Real life just kind of exploded, and I was swamped with all kinds of other stuff to deal with. That has been mostly dealt with though, so I should be back on track with (bi)weekly updates.
> 
> Because I really, really wanted to give you a new chapter after so long, this one has not been beta'd yet. I hope you won't mind too much.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered into several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrel around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. The normally already cold Slytherin common room gradually became colder and colder, until the fires were left roaring 24 hours a day to keep the temperature at least somewhat manageable. Harry, who had gotten quite used to cold back at the Dursleys - after all, there was no heating in a cupboard, and it wasn’t as if they had cared enough to give him an extra blanket or anything - had a little less trouble with the dropping temperature than some of the other Slytherins.

Outside of their common room however, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. The older students began casting warming charms on themselves and the younger students in the morning and at lunch, but during the day the charms slowly wore off.

Worst of all were Severus’ classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

“I do feel so sorry,” said Ron Weasley, one Potions class, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke, clearly intending for him to hear his comments. Some of the other Gryffindors chuckled, but most stayed quiet, and did their best to not look at either Harry or Weasley.

Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored the Gryffindors. Interactions between the Slytherins and Gryffindor had become even more unpleasant since the last Quidditch match, in which Slytherin had defeated Gryffindor with a score difference of more than 200 points.

Harry wasn’t feeling bad about staying at Hogwarts at all. Well, at least not anymore. Ever since Severus had told him he would be welcome to help him out in his private Potions Lab during the holidays, he was actually sort of looking forward to it. It would probably be the best Christmas he ever had. Not that a Christmas at the Dursleys - at which he was forced to cook Christmas dinner without even being allowed to eat any of it - wasn’t all that hard to beat.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid - the huge man that had waited them up at the train station, and who had turned out to be the gamekeeper - was behind it.

“Hi Hagrid, want any help?” Weasley asked, sticking his head through the branches.

“Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron.”

“Would you mind moving out of the way?” Draco asked from besides Harry. “Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.”

Weasley dived at Malfoy just as Severus came up the stairs.

“WEASLEY!”

Weasley let go of the front of Draco’s robes, but continued to glare at him.

“He was provoked, Professor Snape,” said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. “Malfoy was insultin’ his family.”

“Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,” said Severus silkily. “Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, all of you.”

Draco, Vince, and Greg pushed roughly pas the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking. Harry quickly followed after them, sending an apologetic smile towards the gamekeeper.

When they were out of earshot of Weasley and the other Gryffindors, Draco turned to Harry, still smirking. “He wasn’t going to get away with going after you, not if I can do anything about it.”

“You didn’t really have to go after him like that though,” Harry replied, a bit uncomfortable by the fact that Draco hadn’t just made a snide comment to Weasley, but had gone after the fact that his family was poor.

Draco shrugged. “He went after your family, so I went after his.”

It still didn’t sit totally right with Harry, but he saw Draco’s point. And it wasn’t like they were the ones that had started it. He decided to put the issue out of his mind. After all, there were much more pleasant things to think about. Like Christmas.

“We’ve got about an hour left until lunch,” Draco said. “Anything you want to do on our last day before we’re all leaving?”

Harry shrugged. There wasn’t really anything special he could think of.

“Let’s just go to the Great Hall,” he eventually answered. “At least there it will be warm.”

The four of them walked to the Great Hall, were Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the last Christmas decorations.

Hagrid walked in with the tree a little after them.

“Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?” Professor Flitwick said, looking up from where he was decorating another tree.

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

Walking over towards their regular spot at the Slytherin table, something at the Ravenclaw table caught Harry’s eye.

“Is that chess?” he asked, recognising the board and pieces between two of the older Ravenclaw guys. So far, he hadn’t seen any games in the Wizarding World that looked like anything he was used to seeing Dudley play with, so seeing a chessboard caught him by surprise.

“You know how to play?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. “I never played, but I know what it looks like. My cousin had a set, even though I don’t think he ever used it. I didn’t know it was played here.”

“Muggles play Chess?” Draco asked, clearly surprised.

“Well, yes. At least, I don’t expect the Dursley’s to have got one from a Wizarding shop.” Harry chuckled, the image of his aunt and uncle walking into any kind of shop connected to the Wizarding World was just too strange.

“Do you mind?” one of the Ravenclaws suddenly said. “We’re trying to concentrate here. Move your conversation elsewhere, please.”

Vince and Greg immediately stepped forward, crunching their knuckles, but Harry quickly pulled them back, not wanting them to make a scene. He was making sure to do so behind their broad backs though, and not make it too obvious, since he still wasn’t quite sure what would be considered appropriate and not in terms of him being a Speaker and all that. He really hoped it would all start to make more sense soon, and would not always require him to think about everything so much.

“And yes, Muggles do play Chess, Malfoy” the other Ravenclaw piped up. “I knew how to play before I ever got my Hogwarts letter. I would suggest you read up on it’s history, seeing as it was a Muggle who invented the game in the first place.”

“Bet he stole the idea from a wizard,” Draco mumbled, but he apparently felt like arguing with the Ravenclaws was not worth it, for he turned his back to them, signalling for Harry to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked once they were out of the Great Hall, Vince and Greg close behind them.

“Common Room,” Draco replied. “We’re going to pick up my chess set. You’re going to learn how to play. Every decent wizard should be able to.”

Harry shrugged, not really caring one way or another. He had learned long ago that it was better to just go with whatever Draco wanted in these kinds of situations. It was easier on everyone that way.

***

The following day, after the others had boarded the train and were off - and after Blaise had jokingly made Harry promise to send them all an owl if another troll came to crash a Holiday Feast - Harry went up to the owlery to send an owl to Madam Malkins’ with his order for dress robes. He knew he probably should have done so earlier already, but the last few weeks had just been so busy, he hadn’t had the time to make a trip to the owlery.

He had figured Wizarding dress robes were probably at least somewhat similar to Muggle formal suits. He had seen Uncle Vernon in one of those more than enough times to have at least a basic understanding of how the things were supposed to look. So even if he wasn’t really familiar with the wizarding equivalent, and didn’t know much about what was considered appropriate for something like the Ministry Ball, he at least knew something about colours and layers.

Seeing as there had been quite a few articles about him being sorted into Slytherin at the start of the year - Draco had been gloating about how the Wizarding World didn’t seem to be able to get over them fact that he had become one of them, instead of a Gryffindor - Harry wanted to make some sort of statement. He was proud to be a Slytherin, and he wanted his dress robes to show that. So he had specified that he wanted Slytherin green to be used in part of the dressrobes - not as the major colour or anything, but still visible enough to be taken as a statement - and that they were free to do what they wanted with everything else. He figured that they were probably much better at that sort of thing than he was anyway.

When he walked into the owlery, Hedwig immediately descended from her spot high up in the tower, and perched down on Harry’s outstretched arm.

“Hey girl,” Harry said softly, scratching her feathers. “Sorry I haven’t come to see you more often. Been kind of busy.”

Hedwig turned her head and softly nibbled on his fingers. Harry took that as a sign she had accepted his apology, so he handed her his letter. “Deliver this to Madam Malkins’ for me, will you?”

Hedwig hooted once in answer, before taking off and flying out of the tower. Harry stared after her until the cold started to seep through his warm cloak, and he left for the relative warmth of the castle, and his common room.

***

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the Feast - hopefully without a troll this time - and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke up early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

He immediately sat straight up in bed, staring at the packages. He had never had any Christmas presents before. Who could these have come from?

He hastily got up from bed, and picked up the packages, setting them on his bed. The first one he decided to open was a rectangular one, wrapped in glossy black paper, and Harry opened it to find a book inside. He read the title, ‘Useful Potions for the Modern Wizard or Witch’, and opened it to find a small card inside.

“Happy Christmas. I know you have taken an interest in Potions. These will surely be useful in your studies.

Severus Snape”

Harry smiled, happy to know Severus had cared enough to give him a present. He doubted it was standard for a Head of House to send their students presents, and he felt a warm feeling knowing that the Professor still saw him as more than just another of his students.

The next package, wrapped in shiny emerald green wrapping paper, turned out to be a quill set from Daphne, complete with emerald green ink.

The silver box next to it turned out to be a gift from Draco and his parents. It was filled with all kinds of different homemade sweets, apparently all made by the Malfoy Elves. It had also included a note, telling him that his real present would take a little more time, and that they would personally give it to him when he was there for the ball.

A package in traditional Christmas green and red turned out to be a gift from Hermione, who had given him a box of Chocolate Frogs. Harry smiled, happy that Hermione knew him well enough to not give him one of those huge books she surely would have asked for.

A silver and black striped package was a present from Pansy. Inside was a beautiful emerald green tie. An attached note had told him it was a gift of her and her mother, with the hopes that he would wear it to the Ministry Ball, for it would complement his eyes. About halfway on the tie, in what he suspected would be the top if he were to wear it, was a label that he strongly suspected was the logo of the company of Pansy’s mother. Surely, the request to wear it had not only to do with his eye colour, but also a bit of free advertisement for her company. After all, he knew how much attention was currently focused on him. If he was seen with one of her items, surely that wouldn’t hurt. But it was a present nonetheless, and he was more than happy to wear the tie if it made Pansy and her mother happy. After all, it was a beautiful tie.

There was only one package left now, and Harry couldn’t imagine anyone else who would give him a present for Christmas. He picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He tore off the wrapper.

Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. He picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to touch, like water woven into material. After a moment, he realised it was some kind of cloak.

Wondering why the cloak was this strange kind of silver, he decided to try it on. He looked down, and noticed he couldn’t see his body anymore. He dashed over to his wardrobe, opening it to look at the mirror on the inside of the door. His reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

The cloak seemed to be spelled to make him invisible. He wondered if he should ask Severus if he knew more about clothes that made the wearer invisible, or if he should keep it a secret and try to find out at the library himself. In the end, he decided he wanted to keep it to himself just a little longer, and see if he could find out anything himself. If he couldn’t find any information in the library, he could always go to Severus later. For now though, he wanted to keep the strange gift to himself just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, please? This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, and I'm still not entirely sure it came out right. I didn't want to make you wait any longer though.


	12. The Mirror of Erised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has taken so long, but I promise you I'm still working on this series. I know you'll probably all just want to read the next chapter, so I'll put the other stuff in the end notes. Hope you like it.

The Christmas dinner was better than Harry had ever imagined. He was used to cooking dinner for the Dursleys during Christmas, although he usually wasn’t allowed any of it himself, but this one was more than he could have toughed possible. Heaps and heaps of all possible dishes were standing along the table - there were so little students left during the holidays that the four House tables and Head table had made way for one long table - and it was a very cheerful evening. House rivalries even seemed to be slightly forgotten, now that they were all sitting together, and they saw a side of the teachers they probably would have never seen otherwise. A drunk Professor McGonagall, Harry decided, really was something else. The only person that didn’t seem affected by the holiday cheer at all was, perhaps not unsurprisingly, Professor Snape. Although, then again, he didn’t think he would be very happy if Professor Dumbledore was trying to get him to wear that ridiculous hat either.

All in all, Harry had had quite the amazing Christmas Day he thought, when he walked back to the Slytherin common room later that evening. Presents, no ridiculous rivalries to worry about, a delicious dinner. He thought he might be able to start enjoying Christmas, if this was how they were going to be like in the Wizarding World.

Back in his dormitory, he carefully started to put away and rearrange his presents, something he hadn’t had the time or will to do earlier that day. He was just putting away the quill set he had gotten from Daphne, when he noticed a piece of parchment that had drifted under his bed.

Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.  
A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. It was rather clear that this note must have come with the strange cloak, although it didn’t really answer any questions. Who had sent it? Who would his father have given this to, and had it really been his father’s?

He walked over to his wardrobe, where he had carefully put away the cloak earlier that day. He retrieved it from the back of a shelve, letting the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He could think of more than enough things to do with the cloak, and excitement started to flood through him while he thought of the many possibilities.

He wrapped the cloak around him, making sure it covered every part of him - it wouldn’t do for someone to see a floating bodypart - and slipped out of his dormitory, a grin on his face. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

 

***

 

He wandered through the castle, not really with any purpose in mind, just relishing in the feeling of being able to go wherever he wanted, with nobody to stop him. Eventually, he ended up in front of the library, and he decided this was a perfect opportunity to try and find some information about cloaks that turned you invisible without anyone bothering him.

The library was pitch-black and bit eerie, but Harry had long since gotten used to the dark, and where others might be scared by it, he had pretended as a child that the dark was a comforting blanket he could wrap himself in, that would give him warmth and hide him from the Dursleys. If he was going to try and figure out what kind of cloak this was, he would have to get some light though, so he lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

Harry figured that whatever the cloak had been spelled with, it was most likely to be a charm, so he headed over to the Charms section of the library. When he got there, however, he had to admit he had no clue where to even begin looking, and while usually Madam Pince could be a huge help with at least pointing you in the right direction, he now had to rely on the less than helpful titles.

Going up and down the shelves, he picked out a few which looked like they might be useful, and made his way over to a table in the back of the room, which was hidden from sight of the library entrance. This way, even if someone was patrolling, he would be able to hide and put everything back in place before they would figure out he was even here.

At some point, Harry was more busy yawning than actually reading, so he figured it was time to get back to the dungeons. He put the books back on the return shelf - it was spelled so each book you put there was automatically placed back on it’s correct shelf - and walked out of the library, careful not too make too much noise when closing the door behind him.

Hogwarts didn’t seem to want to let him get back to bed however, because when Harry set foot on the first staircase, it immediately moved. It was a regular occurrence, the staircases moving, so Harry didn’t do much more than sigh, before stepping off the staircase on the other side, and trying to figure out how to get to the dungeons from here. He didn’t recognise the corridor he was now in, but that could also be because of the dark, and Harry’s lamp made a lot of strange shadows play on the walls and floor.

He walked through the corridor, careful to see where he was going, when a room on his right caught his eye. A door stood ajar to his right. It caught his eye, because classrooms and other rooms were not usually left open, especially not during the night. In a castle filled with magic, after all, you needed to be careful.

He walked over towards the room, carefully opening the door some more, able to run for it the moment something seemed wrong. It didn’t though. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were pilled against the walls, and there was a upturned wastepaper basket — but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn’t look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. He had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others.

A woman was standing right behind his reflection, smiling at him and waving. He gasped when he realised he recognised her, from a picture he had seen at Professor Snape’s house — the woman was his mother.

He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he’d touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air — she and the others existed only in the mirror. Not that Harry had really thought anything different though, he knew his parents were dead.

He then looked more closely at the other people in the mirror. If the woman was his mother, then were the others also family? The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to his mother put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry’s did. With tears in his eyes Harry realised this was the first time he was looking at his parents, together and happy.

Only that wasn’t quite right. They were both crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.

Slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw others with his haircolour, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry’s knobbly knees — Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life. Here they were, the Potters, smiling and waving at him, while he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn’t know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn’t stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother’s face, whispered, “I’ll come back,” and hurried from the room.

 

***

 

The third time that Harry decided he wanted to spend time with his family, he found his way more quickly than the second time, when he had spend almost an hour trying to figure out where exactly the unused classroom was. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn’t meet anyone.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and who he supposed was one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from stayin ghere all night with his family. No housemates that were expecting him back. Nothing at all. Except —

“So — back again, Harry?”

Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him.

“I didn’t see you, sir.”

“Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you,” Dumbledore said, and Harry was relieved to see he was smiling. He still was a bit warry around the man, but at least he didn’t seem mad.

“So,” Dumbledore said, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.”

“I didn’t know it was called that, sir.”

“But I expect you’ve realized by now what it does?”

“It shows me my family—”

“Now, can you think what that might mean? What the Mirror of Erised shows us?”

Harry shook his head. He had a few theories, but he wasn’t really interested in voicing them. If Dumbledore wanted to tell him, he could just do so.

“Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?”

Harry wondered why Dumbledore didn’t just tell him, but he thought about it. The he said slowly, “It shows us what we want…”

“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows I real or even possible.

“The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don’t you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?”

Harry briefly wondered if he should ask Dumbledore about the cloak, but figured he would rather just get away from the man again. Certainly, the man seemed nice enough now, but Harry couldn’t forget the conversation he had overheard at Spinner’s End. The conversation where Dumbledore had seemed so adamant on sending him back to the Dursleys, even when Severus told him what he had seen there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know none of this chapter was really all that 'new', but I had to get this information out somehow. I hope you'll forgive me, and I promise that the next chapter is entirely original, new stuff, and shall be out this weekend. It's a bit of a short one again, but it's completely finished, so no long wait.
> 
> Other than that, since November is NaNoWriMo, I have had the chance to focus on this series a lot this month. I have a rough draft for Year 2 done, and Year 3 and Year 4 both have a 'bare bones draft', as I like to call them. Meaning it's the entire story written in a descriptive style, no dialogue, just writing down what is happening. To give you an idea, that means Year 3 is about 40,000 words as of now. Writing the actual story later, with dialogue and everything, will make that quite a bit longer. Why did I decide to write the entire series again? ;)
> 
> Anyway, I want to apologise once more for having taken so long to update, and I really am trying my best to be better about it. As I said, next chapter will be up this weekend, and I hope to have the chapters surrounding the Ministry/Malfoy Ball - which I know is probably what you're all waiting for - up before the end of the year.


	13. Interlude: Snow equals War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a lighthearted interlude, because I wanted to. And because I needed this chapter to have a chance to do a little character growth for Harry, and show him interacting with others outside of Slytherin, or his year. Hope you guys like it.

Harry had gone for a walk outside, trying to get his mind off of the thought of his parents and the mirror. Dumbledore had told him it would be moved, and he had checked as well. The mirror was gone. And with it, his chance at seeing his parents. Of course he knew it wasn’t healthy, the way he had become obsessed over the mirror, but he couldn’t help it. He had never known his parents, this was the first time he had even seen their image. Was it so strange that he wanted to see them more?

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had come outside to stop thinking about his parents, he shouldn’t let himself sink away in his thoughts like that.

“Watch out!” someone exclaim, moments before Harry was hit in the back of his head by something wet and cold. A snowball.

Harry turned around and saw two redheaded boys grin at him, standing a few meters away from eachother.

“Sorry about that,” the first said.

“Wasn’t meant for you,” the second continued.

Harry recognised the boys as the Weasley twins. Everyone knew the Weasley twins. They were a few years up, both Gryffindors of course. Not that Harry cared too much about Houses, since they did not seem to care too much at the moment either.

“So you weren’t deliberately throwing a snowball at a Slytherin?” Harry asked, trying to make his tone a little haughty.

The twins looked at each other, and Harry used the moment to quickly scoop up some snow and pack it together in a snowball of his own.

“Because this one is me deliberately throwing a snowball at a pair of Gryffindor!” Harry exclaimed, grinning, throwing the loosely packed snowball at the closest of the two. It hid the boy just as he turned around to face Harry again.

The boy blinked a few times, wiping the snow of his face, while the other laughed.

“He got you good, Fred!” he shouted.

“You want a snowball fight over Houses, kid?” the other asked.

Harry shook his head, walking towards them. “Don’t care much about Houses, really. Seems a bit pointless to me.”

The twins raised their eyebrows at the same time, before grinning at the same time as well. Harry wondered at that moment how their teachers, or anyone really, could ever keep them apart. Then again, maybe they didn’t. It seemed just like the thing the two, who were known as two of the biggest pranksters Hogwarts had seen in many years, would do, messing about and pretending they were the other.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, George?” the one on the left asked.

“I’m thinking he’s a little different, Fred,” the one on the right said.

“A Slytherin talking to a pair of Gryffindors…” the left one, Fred, said.

“… and nobody is throwing insults or hexes,” the right one, George, continued.

Harry grinned. He liked the way these two communicated together. And the fact that they didn’t seem anywhere as nasty as the Gryffindors in his year helped as well, of course.

“It’s the Christmas Holidays,” Harry said. “Clearly, that’s not a time for fighting.”

“Oh, but there you’re wrong, you see…” Fred said, grinning as well.

“… because Christmas Holidays are the perfect time for fighting …” George continued.

“… snowball fighting, that is,” Fred finished.

The twins both scooped up a handful of snow, quickly packed it together, and threw them at Harry. Harry had barely enough time to duck behind a rock behind him before the two snowballs impacted the rock.

“Not fair!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s two against one!”

“Who said anything about being fair?” one of them replied. Without seeing them, Harry couldn’t say which one it was. Then again, he didn’t think he could say who was who even if he did see them.

“You’re Gryffindors,” Harry replied, still hiding behind the rock. “Aren’t you supposed to be fair?”

“All is fair in love and war…”

“… and a snowball fight is definitely a war!”

Harry had taken the time it had cost them to reply to pack together some new snowballs, and he deftly got up from behind the rock and threw a few of them at the twins in quick succession. Most of them missed their targets, but he managed to hit one of them on the shoulder.

The twins were now running towards him, so Harry was forced to give up his tactical spot behind the rock in favour of getting away from them.

They continued to run around for a while, the twins throwing snowballs at Harry, Harry throwing snowballs back, until Harry accidentally hit someone else when one of the twins ducked just in time.

Harry realised this was not good, when he noticed it was the younghest Weasley he had accidentally hit, and who was now stomping his way, anger clear on his face. “What the hell, Potter! You think you-”

The boy stopped speaking mid-sentence when another snowball hit him, this time thrown by one of the twins.

“Relax, Ronnie,” Fred - or was it George - said.

“Get into the Holiday spirit!” the other continued.

Harry had to suppress a grin at the twins standing up for him against their younger brother. Laughing would definitely not help the situation.

“Look, Weasley, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to hit you,” Harry said.

“Sure you didn’t,” Weasley replied sarcastically.

The boy was hit by a snowball once more. He turned towards his brother. “Stop it!”

“Free for all!” one of the twins exclaimed, and started throwing more snowballs at his brother. The boy huffed and shook his head, getting in on the fight and started throwing snowballs back at his older brothers.

Harry debated with himself for a minute if he should get in as well, but eventually decided it would probably be better to not annoy the youngest Weasley, and thereby probably the rest of the Gryffindors in his year, any further.

He had just started walking back to the castle when he felt something hit his back. He quickly turned around and saw a girl standing a few meters from him, a small, shy smile on her lips. “Would it be okay if I joined?”

Harry nodded. If there were more people joining in it would make things less awkward. It would even mean he could probably join back in without making the younghest Weasley think he was trying to make a target of him.

He tried to remember who the girl was, but the only thing he knew was that she was a Hufflepuff, her black and yellow scarf given that away. He was pretty sure she wasn’t in his year, though. He knew all the first years by both face and name by now. It had taken a while, but he made sure to learn them all. He was slowly tyring to learn who the older years were as well, working his way upwards in years, but he didn’t remember her. If that was because he wasn’t good at remembering them all, or because she was a few years older, he wasn’t really sure.

He was shaken from his thoughts by being hit in the side, and quickly turned his attention back to the snowball fight. He was not going to stay an easy target for long.

In less than an hour, most of the other students that were staying at Hogwarts had joined in on the fight as well. They had come outside in small groups, having noticed them from the library or their Common Room, and the fight had quickly turned from chaotic to all-out madness. Snowballs were being thrown from all sides, with no place left to hide.

Harry looked at the huge fight that was going on, smiling at the fact that somehow, all four houses were on the field, having a nice afternoon. Granted, he was the only Slytherin, but then again, he couldn’t really picture any of the older Slytherins participating in any kind of snowball fight, with or without other Houses.

Suddenly, Harry was hit in the back with a snowball, while he was pretty sure there were no other students behind him. He had been keeping track of them, making sure to have as many of them in his vision as he could at all times. He turned around quickly, and noticed that Professor Flitwick was standing next to a stack of snowballs that was apparantly charmed to shoot snowballs at random students. A little behind the tiny professor, on the steps of the entrance to Hogwarts, stood the other three Heads of Houses, overseeing the group of students, but not participating like the Head of Ravenclaw.

Harry walked over to them, smiling first at Professor Flitwick, who grinned back, before walking up the steps of Hogwarts.

“Would you care to join, Professors?” Harry asked, a cheeky grin on his face. “I’m sure nobody would mind having the chance to throw some snowballs at their teachers.”

“I’m quite sure you are all having enough fun as it is, Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

“All four Houses, having fun together, and nobody seems to care what colours anyone is sporting today,” Professor Sprout said, smiling at the scene before her. “It’s been a while since we had the privilege to see that. I’m fairly sure almost everyone must be outside.”

“Not Slytherin though,” Harry said.

“Are you not a Slytherin, Mr Potter?” Severus asked, looking Harry straight in the eyes. “Even one Slytherin being able to be out with all three other Houses is a rather special occurrence. Although I do not think anyone is surprised it would be you that could get everyone ignoring their Houses for a moment.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you, sir. But it’s actually the Weasleys that made it happen.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression Mr Weasley and you were not on friendly terms?”

“No, we aren’t,” Harry said, grimacing. “But the twins seem nice enough. They were the ones to say that the Christmas Holidays weren’t the time for petty House rivalries.”

Professor McGonagall smiled at that. “Well, I don’t want to seem like only giving my own House points…”

“No, of course not. Imagine you being prejudiced to Gryffindor,” Severus said, and Harry was pretty sure he was being sarcastic, even though his voice didn’t change too much from it’s usual tone.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” Professor Sprout said, shaking her head, a smile on her face. “And I saw you with the Weasley twins, Mr Potter. There is no reason to give them all the honour, when you clearly were a part of it as well. After all, ignoring House affliation for a moment has to come from both sides, not just one.”

Harry didn’t really know how to answer that, and both Severus and Professor McGonagall looked at each other at that.

“Well, it seems both of our Houses have done quite well today then, wouldn’t you agree, Severus?”

“My House is never seen doing anything less than good, Minerva.”

“Always trying to outshow each other,” Professor Sprout said, winking at Harry, who couldn’t help but smile back at her. “But both Gryffindor and Slytherin deserve the recognition today, I believe. Ten points to both of them.”

“Oh, but Pomona, there are two Weasleys, that should count for something,” Professor McGonagall said, trying to sound serious. Her grin betrayed her true feelings though, and Harry realised she was only teasing.

“I have never seen them separated for more than a few minutes,” Severus countered, “which must surely mean they count as one.”

Harry smiled at the gathered professors, who were talking and teasing eachother like friends, clearly not minding that they were Heads of different Houses.

He looked back at his fellow classmates and the other students who were still happily throwing snowballs around. He wondered what class would be like if everyone had that attitude, if nobody minded who was part of which House, that not everyone was the same. But then again, having them separated into Houses also gave them the ability to make really close connections to the people in their own House. He might not feel like he was best friends with anyone yet, but in the few months that he had been here, he had already become closer with people than he had ever been at his old school, and that was something he was truly grateful for. Surely, the House system was a good thing, otherwise it would have been disbanded years ago.

And who knew what friendships and close bonds would be formed before they all left Hogwarts in seven years. It wasn’t like there was a rule about not being able to form friendships outside of your House. You only had to look at him and Hermione to see that it was perfectly possible.

So while he might not always like the House system, and the forced separation of students into different, sometimes even opposing groups, he could also see the benefit. And for now, that was enough.


	14. New Year's Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I am so, so sorry for how long this took. I realised earlier this year that I would need to rewrite most of the second half of this story, to make the later years work, and that meant changing the entire plot of this chapter, as it sets up Harry's first real interaction with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. This meeting will form the basis for several plot-lines that will stretch all the way to Year 5 and even later, so it was very important for me to get it right. I never meant for it to be this long before I updated though!
> 
> Anyway, I finally know where this is going again, and how to rewrite the second half of this year, so let's all hope you will never again have to wait that ridiculously long for a new chapter!
> 
> Also, thanks to [greenblushalex](http://greenblushalex.tumblr.com/) for their help with editing this chapter!

Harry stared. He had known Malfoy Manor was big, because of the occasional comment from Draco or one of the other Slytherins, but he hadn't exactly expected it to be this huge. It was truly the biggest house Harry had ever seen, and that included the ridiculously posh houses that featured on some of aunt Petunia's shows.

Next to him, Hermione seemed slightly less in awe, but even she looked impressed. Harry thought back on what she had told him about her grandmother, and figured this might not be entirely new for her.

Professor Snape cleared his throat, standing slightly behind them, making them both startle a bit. "Let us keep moving. It is too cold for us to be staying outside like this for long."

The professor moved past them, and Harry and Hermione had to hurry a bit to keep up with his longer strides.

The three of them had porkeyed to Malfoy Manor after having picked up Hermione from her parents' place in Muggle London. He had explained to them that usually, he would have apparated, but that it was difficult, and even dangerous, to do so while taking more than one person with you. They could have gone by Floo, but then they would have had to go through The Leaky Cauldron or somewhere similar, and Professor Snape didn't seem to have any interest in doing so. Plus, this way Harry and Hermione would be able to see a bit of the outside of Malfoy Manor as well.

When they reached the front entrance, a small wizard was already waiting for them, looking quite bored with his job. "Names, please."

"Severus Snape, and Harry Potter accompanied by Rosette Gallais."

His expression from before was immediately replaced by excitement. "Did you say Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?"

The man looked at him so intently that Harry had to resist taking a step back. He was very relieved when Professor Snape took the man's attention away from him again by snidely asking whether or not they were allowed to go inside.

"Yes, yes, of course. Would you be able to find the way on your own, or would you appreciate some directions? Mr Malfoy has graciously offered his elves to help you find your way, if you would like."

"We will be able to find our way," Professor Snape replied, already moving past the man, trusting Harry and Hermione to follow him. "It is not the first time I am paying a visit to this Manor, after all."

Harry thought Professor Snape might have been a bit rude, but then again, the other man had been staring at Harry, and he never liked it when people stared at him. He found he didn't really mind the rudeness.

Their professor led them through the Manor, making the occasional turn, appearing to know eactly where he was going, before stopping in front of a pair of ornately carved doors. He turned towards the two of them. "Are you one hundred percent sure that you want to go through with this? There is still time to back out now."

Harry shook his head. "We're not turning away now, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I appreciate the concern, Professor, but we've put a lot of energy into this. We'll be alright."

Professor Snape looked like he had his doubts, but didn't argue. He did, however, check Hermione's glamour one more time, even though Harry figured all three of them knew it was perfectly fine the way it was.

The glamour had been put up back in London. Professor Snape hadn't changed too much, it was easier to stay close to the original features. Where Hermione had brown eyes and very messy brown curls, Rosette Gallais had blue eyes and long, smooth, strawberry-blond hair. Harry also thought the shape of her nose and chin were slightly different, but wasn't quite sure what exactly the change was. Not that it mattered, though. She wasn't recognisable as Hermione, and that was the important part. Even he wouldn't have been able to identify her, and he had spend a lot more time around Hermione than any of the other Slytherins.

When the professor seemed to be satisfied, he abruptly turned back to the doors, and swung them open in one fell swoop. Harry thought it was a bit dramatic, but then again the man seemed to like being dramatic, and here he probably had the proper audience for it as well.

The moment they stepped inside, people turned to look who had arrived. Their eyes quickly moved past Professor Snape - who they probably didn't find all that interesting - and then landed on Harry. Where, to Harry's annoyance, they stayed. He felt kind of nervous, being the center of attention like that, and wished they would all just continue whatever they had been doing before. A moment later though, it seemed Harry would be saved by a man who he assumed to be Mr Malfoy, on account of the same platinum blond shade of hair as Draco.

"Severus, how good to see you," the man said, clasping Professor Snape's arm. He then turned towards Harry. "And Mr Potter, it is an honour to have you in my home. There are a few people who have told me they would be honored to meet you. For now though, I'm sure my son would wish to see you. Us adults will have to have a little more patience, I believe."

Harry wasn't quite sure he wanted to meet whoever of these people wished to meet him, but figured it would be impolite to say so.

"Now, as for your friend," Mr Malfoy continued, turning towards Hermione. "I have to admit, Miss Gallais, neither me nor my wife recognised your name."

Hermione gave him a small smile, followed by some sort of bow. Somehow, she seemed perfectly comfortable, as if she did this kind of thing daily. "My family is originally from France, Mr Malfoy, I do not believe we've ever moved towards Great Britain. I have certainly heard of your family, though. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Harry had to work to keep his expression neutral. Hermione was cleverly playing on the family pride most Slytherins seemed to have.

"France, you say? Would I be correct in assuming you're attending Beauxbatons, then?"

Hermione nodded. "Mother thought it better I attend the same school she had went, since she was sure it would give me a good education."

"Understandable reasoning, of course," Mr Malfoy replied. "Although I do have to commend you on your English. You accent is impeccable."

Hermione smiled. "The work of some excellent private tutors."

"I'm sure," was the reply. "Now, Mr Potter, I imagine my son would like to be introduced to your friend. We'll meet again later. I believe Draco and most of your classmates can be found next-doors, just through the door on your left."

Harry and Hermione politely said their goodbyes, and went in search of Draco and the rest of the Slytherins. Harry felt himself relaxing. If they had managed to fool Mr Malfoy, surely they would be able to fool their classmates.

It didn't take them too long to find the other Slytherins, Mr Malfoy having been right about their location. Almost all of the Slytherin first years were already there, with only Theo not having arrived yet. 'Rosette Gallais' was quickly introduced to everyone, and Harry was glad that his classmates didn't ask more than a few general questions about France and Beauxbatons, which Hermione easily answered. The few questions that would have needed complicated lies as answers were evaded quite smoothly by the simple explanation that they couldn't say, because of "safety measures" on Harry's side. The others seemed a bit upset at that, but were willing to accept the fact that they wouldn't be able to get answers. They had some experience of the sometimes annoying "safety measures" surrounding Harry in secrecy, but it wasn't as if they and their families weren't keeping various secrets either. They knew not to push too much, for everyone's best interests.

Not long after, Theo finally arrived, apologising for being late and explaining his father had some kind of urgent business to attend to. Harry noticed Draco frowning at that, but decided not to ask. At least not now. If it was something that could have been explained in public, Draco or Theo would have done so.

Now that they were finally complete, Draco announced it was time to eat - something that was more than happily agreed with by Vince and Greg. The others were a bit less vocal, but were also happy with the chance to eat some of the things they had seen in passing earlier.

Together, they went back into what Draco had explained was the Ballroom - which was quite fitting to host a ball, Harry figured - and loaded their plates with all sort of delicious (and expensive) looking foods. Looking around, Harry noticed the room had become quite a bit more crowded than earlier, with quite a few people seated at long tables on the far side of the room, which reminded Harry a bit of the House tables at Hogwarts.

Blaise had pointed out an empty spot, and not long after they had managed to all find a place to sit. Harry saw Draco nodding towards his father, who nodded back and walked over to a group of men who were talking on the other side of the room. Between bites Harry asked who they were.

"Most of them are very important members of the Ministry," Draco answered. "The one in the middle, the slightly shorter one, that's the Minister of Magic."

Harry looked again. The man certainly didn't seem like a minister. Then again, Harry didn't have too much experience with those, except for some of the Muggle ministers he had seen on the news now and then. Who knew, maybe things were different in the Wizarding World. And it wasn't like he could call himself an expert or anything.

Slowly, the sound-level in the room got lower, while the minister walked to the middle of the floor. Those that had been standing or walking moved over towards the sides of the room, giving the man ample space.

"Wizards and witches, gathered guests, welcome to the annual Ministry New years Ball. Another year has passed, and together we will go into the new one. Before we look back on the previous year, and forward to this one, I would like to thank Mr Lucius Malfoy for graciously opening up Malfoy Manor to host us all."

Under polite applause Mr Malfoy nodded to the man. "It is our pleasure, as always."

Across from Harry, Daphne chuckled. "It's not like they have many other options, anyway. At this point, it would probably almost create a scandal if it's not hosted here."

"Would you mind if I spoke a few short words, Minister?" Mr Malfoy asked.

The man seemed surprised, but quickly got over it. "Yes, yes, of course."

"Thank you, Minister," he said, walking over until he stood next to him. "First of all, I would like to repeat our Ministers' greetings. It's a honour to be able to host you all another time. I know some of you might be wondering why I'm standing here, instead of my father, so I would like to take this time to announce that unfortunately, Abraxas Malfoy has fallen ill. Until his conditions improve, I will be stepping up to fulfill our families obligations. Those of you who wish to know more are invited to come to me personally."

"Very unfortunately, very unfortunate," the minister reacted, looking quite grave. "We're all confident you will be able to fill his shoes quite well, however."

Mr Malfoy gave a polite smile and walked back to his previous place on the side, giving the Minister back his space.

Harry frowned. Mr Malfoy didn't seem all too upset that his father was ill, and he hadn't even heard Draco mention his grandfather falling ill either. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think he had heard Draco mentioning grandparents in general, ever. He wondered if maybe they didn't have much contact? Maybe it was a bit like him and the Dursleys? Probably better just not to ask.

Meanwhile, the minister had been going on about things that mostly Harry either didn't follow or didn't really care about. Hermione however seemed to be committing every word to her memory, and would no doubt start researching some things the moment she was back at Hogwarts. Confident he would get the important bits from Hermione or one of the other Slytherins later, he took the time to look around. The guests seemed to consist mostly of older wizards. He saw the occasional witch, of course, but they all seemed to be accompanied by what Harry assumed to be their husband. Each and every one of them was dressed in what appeared to be only the best robes Wizarding tailors had to offer.

Before long, the Minister was done with his speech, and everyone turned back towards their plates, and the food. The food itself was obviously less, let's say messy, than the food at Hogwarts meals, but one couldn't deny the resemblance between the meal at the Ministry ball and the usual Hogwarts Feast. It had even been precluded by a speech. And Harry figured you could compare the role of Headmaster towards students to the role of the Minister towards Magical Britain's population, especially those that had a function in his Ministry.

Soon, all thought of Headmasters and Ministers was put away though, when Harry and the rest of his fellow students descended upon the food. Harry had ignored everything he couldn't immediately recognise - he had no intention of eating anything like snails or the sort, no matter how many times he was told it was a delicatesse in many countries - but he noticed Hermione had added a few things to her plate that he wouldn't have dared even touch. Then again, if she really had grown up with this kind of thing through her Grandmother, she might be used to the types of foods that the Malfoys served here.

Conversation soon turned towards what everyone had been doing during their brief time off from Hogwarts. As it turned out, Draco and his mother had gone to Paris for a few days. Harry felt Hermione briefly stiffen at this, but she soon relaxed. It wasn’t likely he would mention or ask anything that would get them in trouble at this point.

Pansy had apparently accompanied her mother to some kind of end of the year fashion event in Italy, but her explanation was so full of terms he did not recognise that he quickly gave up on understanding. He had the feeling most of the boys had been doing the same.

The meal continued in much the same vein, until eventually Mr Malfoy came towards their group.

"Mr Potter, could you spare a moment of your time? My wife, Narcissa, would like a moment."

Harry accepted, although a bit confused. What would Draco's mum want with him?

He was led by Mr Malfoy to another room, not too far from the Ballroom. Based on the couches and chairs surrounding a low table, he figured this was probably a sitting room of some sort. The moment he and Mr Malfoy came in, a very wealthy-looking blonde woman rose from where she had been sitting in one of the ornately decorated chairs. Harry could only assume this was Narcissa Malfoy.

"Hello Harry, it's so good to see you. You don't mind me calling you Harry, do you?"

Harry shrugged, before remembering the manners people had been trying to instill in him these past few months. "No ma'am, I don't mind."

Mrs Malfoy smiled. "No need for such formality, Harry. After all, we're family, aren't we?"

Harry abruptly stiffened at this. Family? What did she mean? He had been told there was no family left, wasn't he? Did she mean this in some weird pureblood sense? Harry knew most purebloods were related one way or another.

Mrs Malfoy frowned, before turning towards her husband. "Thank you dear, for bringing him here. I'm sure there are people desperate for a chat with you."

Mr Malfoy nodded briefly, before turning around and making his way to what Harry presumed was the Ballroom, and its many guests.

"Based on your expression just now, I don't think anyone has really taken the time to explain to you how you are related to some of the other pureblood families, am I right?"

"Well, one of my classmates told me my grandmother was a Black," Harry answered hesitantly. "But he also said the only Black left was currently in prison, and I'm apparently the last of the Potter family."

"Partly right, Harry," she answered, sitting gingerly back on the chair, gesturing Harry to sit down in the one across from her. "It is true that the last remaining Black to carry that name is staying in Azkaban, but that doesn't mean there aren't any other members of the Black family left. Just because we no longer carry the name, doesn't mean we're no longer part of the family."

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean, are you a Black?"

"Born Narcissa Black. Dorea, your grandmother, was a sister of Pollux, my grandfather. Meaning we're second cousins."

Harry couldn't help but stare at her. Second cousins weren't particularly closely related, but still. Here was an actual, living family member of his, sitting right in front of him.

"Which ties neatly into what I wanted to see you for," Mrs Malfoy continued. "I hope you got our message for Christmas? Most of us older families prefer Yule of course, but children do like an excuse for presents, and we parents do like the chance to spoil them a bit. So Christmas kind of snuck in as an additional holiday. No such nonsense about Santa Claus with us, of course, but it's a nice excuse for gifts and some family time."

Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that, so he just nodded politely.

"Oh, such good manners, you aren't going to be the first who mentions it, are you Harry?" Mrs Malfoy asked, apparently delighted. Harry wasn't quite sure over what. His mind was still too busy trying to wrap itself around the fact that he was talking with family to think about much else.

"We thought of it right away, of course, Lucius and I. Only problem was, it's traditionally given in person, and well, it would have been bad form to have Draco give it once he went back to Hogwarts, I'm sure you understand."

Harry didn't understand what she was talking about at all, but he had figured out early in life that as long as you let adults talk, they mostly made their point clear somewhere during their comments.

"It is normally given at the child's eleventh birthday, the age the child is old enough to go to Hogwarts - or Durmstrang, in a few cases - but this situation isn't exactly normal, now is it? I figured it would work well enough for a Christmas gift as well."

Finally, Harry remembered what had been written to him by the Malfoys at Christmas. They had a gift that apparently could only been given in private. Mrs Malfoy now turned towards the small glass table next to her chair, where Harry now noticed a neatly wrapped package was sitting. She handed it over to Harry, who carefully accepted it and set it in his lap.

"It is a gift passed on through the Black family, which is why I'm the one giving you this one, instead of my husband. It doesn't pass down to daughters, but I retrieved it when my father passed away, in case I could ever pass it down to a child of my own. Draco is the Heir of the Malfoy family, and thus couldn't receive it. And since it is highly unlikely Lucius and I will have another child... Seeing as your Grandmother was a Black, I thought you were a perfect choice for the next generation. The Potters might have had a similar tradition, I wasn't able to find out, but seeing as there's not really anyone around to have you take part in that one..." Mrs Malfoy trailed off, in what Harry suspected was supposed to be a tactful manner. She gave Harry an encouraging smile.

"This way, you will be able to take part in a family tradition, at least."

Harry didn't know what to say. He had just found out that there were family members left, however distant, and now she was giving him a traditional family gift. He felt the telltale sting of coming tears in his eyes, and blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. He didn't want to make a bad impression by crying. He wasn't a small child anymore, desperate for a family.

He knew she might have some form of ulterior motive, of course. After all, Slytherins dealt in deals, favours, and debts. But he didn't care about any of that at the moment. Mrs Malfoy was family. They were second cousins. And although Harry's previous experience with the Dursleys had taught him that didn't necessarily have to mean they would treat you right, he also knew the Dursleys weren't exactly the best role model to base family relations on.

"Go on, Harry, open it."

Harry didn't have to be told twice and immediately, albeit carefully, pulled off the wrapping paper. Inside, he found a beautifully carved wooden box. The wood was dark mahogany, fitting for the House of Black, he supposed, and the woodcarvings seemed to depict different scenes of battle. The kind with kings and words. Harry carefully lifted the top, which revealed two sets of chess pieces, on a protective layer of blood-red velvet. He suspected the white set was marble, and the black set shone in such a way that Harry suspected it to be made, at least partly, of onyx.

"It's beautiful," Harry whispered, carefully lettings his fingers brush over the delicate-looking chess pieces.

"I am very glad you appreciated it," Mrs Malfoy replied, giving him a smile. "As I said before, it's a very old set, passed down for generations. Which means there's quite a bit of the Black personality, shall we say, having been incorporated into these pieces. They might take a bit to get used to, at first, but I'm sure you and them will adapt. After all, you are, at least partly, a Black. And a Slytherin at that."

"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy, honestly. This must be a terribly expensive set, being so old and all."

She looked shocked for a moment, and Harry wondered if he had said something wrong. The expression was quickly replaced by a small smile though, and Harry breathed easily again.

"This is not a gift whose value is weight in Galleons, Harry. I would even dare say it cannot be expressed n them. The value is in the fact that it is a family set. It's the Black chess set, and as such it belongs to a Black. It has been without a proper owner for far too long already. I'm sure the set will accept you as its new owner quite happily."

Harry carefully closed the lid again, sitting the box down on the table in front of him. "I will take good care of it. I promise."

"I'm sure you will," was the reply. "Now, I do believe I've kept you long enough, haven't I? I think your friends would be eager to get you back, especially the girl you took with you. Let's move back to where the rest of the party is, shall we?"

Mrs Malfoy stood up, and Harry did the same. He took a quick glance at the chess set. What was he supposed to do with it.

"Oh, don't worry about the box," Mrs Malfoy said, having caught his glance. "You can leave it here. One of our House Elves will make sure to hand it to you before you leave later tonight."

Well, that made things easier. He was suddenly eager to get back to the others. Knowing Mrs Malfoy was his second cousin, that meant that Draco was his... well, he was family. Harry wasn't quite sure what the actual term was, but he was family. Harry went to school with someone who was his family, however distant. They followed the same classes. They slept in the same room.

Harry was sure nothing would be able to get the smile off his face for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really, really appreciate it if you left a comment! What did you think of that exchange between Harry and Narcissa? Was she sincere, or does she have a secret motive here? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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